.    I 


"  '  LEMME    SEE    HIM,    HUCK 


CONTENTS 

CHAP. 

PREFACE       vii 

I.  TOM  PLAYS,  FIGHTS,  AND  HIDES X 

II.  THE  GLORIOUS  WHITE  WASHER 12 

III.  BUSY  AT  WAR  AND  LOVE 20 

IV.  SHOWING  OFF  IN  SUNDAY-SCHOOL       29 

V.  THE  PINCH-BUG  AND  His  PREY     .......  43 

VI.  TOM  MEETS  BECKY 50 

VII.  TICK-RUNNING  AND  A  HEARTBREAK 65 

VIII.  A  PIRATE  BOLD  TO  BE 73 

IX.  TRAGEDY  IN  THE  GRAVEYARD 80 

X.  DIRE  PROPHECY  OF  THE  HOWLING  DOG     ....  89 
XL         CONSCIENCE  RACKS  TOM 98 

XII.  THE  CAT  AND  THE  PAIN-KILLER 104 

XIII.  THE  PIRATE  CREW  SET  SAIL in 

XIV.  HAPPY  CAMP  OF  THE  FREEBOOTERS 121 

XV.  TOM'S  STEALTHY  VISIT  HOME 129 

XVI.  FIRST  PIPES— "I'VE  LOST  MY  KNIFE"       ....  136 

XVII.  PIRATES  AT  THEIR  OWN  FUNERAL 149 

t  XVIII.  TOM  REVEALS  His  DREAM  SECRET 154 

*  XIX.      THE  CRUELTY  OF  "I  DIDN'T  THINK" 166 

XX.  TOM  TAKES  BECKY'S  PUNISHMENT 170 

XXI.  ELOQUENCE — AND  THE  MASTER'S  GILDED  DOME      .  177 

XXII.  HUCK  FINN  QUOTES  SCRIPTURE 185 

XXIII.  THE  SALVATION  OF  MUFF  POTTER 189 

XXIV.  SPLENDID  DAYS  AND  FEARSOME  NIGHTS     ....  198 

XXV.  SEEKING  THE  BURIED  TREASURE 200 

XXVI.  REAL  ROBBERS  SEIZE  THE  Box  OF  GOLD  .    ,    ,    .  209 


CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGB 

XXVII.  TREMBLING  ON  THE  TRAIL 220 

XXVIII.  IN  THE  LAIR  OF  INJUN  JOE 224 

XXIX.  HUCK  SAVES  THE  WIDOW 229 

XXX.  TOM  AND  BECKY  IN  THE  CAVE 239 

XXXI.  FOUND  AND  LOST  AGAIN 251 

XXXII.  "TURN  OUT!    THEY'RE  FOUND!" 263 

XXXIII.  THE  FATE  OF  INJUN  JOE 267 

XXXIV.  FLOODS  OF  GOLD 281 

XXXV.  RESPECTABLE  HUCK  JOINS  THE  GANG     ....  285 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


LEMME  SEE  HIM,  HUCK 

TOM   GAVE    UP  THE    BRUSH       ........  Facing  p.   14 

"'l-LOVE-YOUl'"  ,  .      .      •      •    '•      .      •       "         68 


PREFACE 

MOST  of  the  adventures  recorded  in  this  book 
really  occurred;  one  or  two  were  experiences 
of  my  own,  the  rest  those  of  boys  who  were  school 
mates  of  mine.  Huck  Finn  is  drawn  from  life ;  Tom 
Sawyer  also,  but  not  from  an  individual — he  is  a 
combination  of  the  characteristics  of  three  boys 
whom  I  knew,  and  therefore  belongs  to  the  com 
posite  order  of  architecture. 

The  odd  superstitions  touched  upon  were  all 
prevalent  among  children  and  slaves  in  the  West 
at  the  period  of  this  story — that  is  to  say,  thirty  or 
forty  years  ago. 

Although  my  book  is  intended  mainly  for  the 
entertainment  of  boys  and  girls,  I  hope  it  will  not 
be  shunned  by  men  and  women  on  that  account,  for 
part  of  my  plan  has  been  to  try  to  pleasantly  remind 
adults  of  what  they  once  were  themselves,  and  of 
how  they  felt  and  thought  and  talked,  and  what 
queer  enterprises  they  sometimes  engaged  in. 

THE  AUTHOR. 
HARTFORD,  1876. 


ADVENTURES  OF  TOM  SAWYER 


ADVENTURES 
OF    TOM    SAWYER 


TP 
1 


CHAPTER  I 

OM!" 

No  answer. 


No  answer. 

"What's  gone  with  that  boy,  I  wonder?  You 
TOM!" 

No  answer. 

The  old  lady  pulled  her  spectacles  down  and 
looked  over  them  about  the  room;  then  she  put 
them  up  and  looked  out  under  them.  She  seldom 
or  never  looked  through  them  for  so  small  a  thing 
as  a  boy;  they  were  her  state  pair,  the  pride  of  her 
heart,  and  were  built  for  "style,"  not  service  —  she 
could  have  seen  through  a  pair  of  stove-lids  just  as 
well.  She  looked  perplexed  for  a  moment,  and 
then  said,  not  fiercely,  but  still  loud  enough  for  the 
furniture  to  hear: 

"Well,  I  lay  if  I  get  hold  of  you  Ill- 

She  did  not  finish,  for  by  this  time  she  was  bend 
ing  down  and  punching  under  the  bed  with  the 


TWAIN 


broom,  and  so  she  needed  breath  to  punctuate  the 
punches  with.  She  resurrected  nothing  but  the  cat. 

"I  never  did  see  the  beat  of  that  boy!" 

She  went  to  the  open  door  and  stood  in  it  and 
looked  out  among  the  tomato  vines  and  "jimpson" 
weeds  that  constituted  the  garden.  No  Tom.  So 
she  lifted  up  her  voice  at  an  angle  calculated  for 
distance,  and  shouted: 

"Y-o-u-u  Tom!" 

There  was  a  slight  noise  behind  her  and  she  turned 
just  in  time  to  seize  a  small  boy  by  the  slack  of  his 
roundabout  and  arrest  his  flight. 

1  'There!  I  might  'a'  thought  of  that  closet. 
What  you  been  doing  in  there?" 

"Nothing." 

"Nothing!  Look  at  your  hands.  And  look  at 
your  mouth.  What  is  that  truck?" 

"I  don't  know,  aunt." 

"Well,  I  know.  It's  jam  —  that's  what  it  is. 
Forty  times  I've  said  if  you  didn't  let  that  jam  alone 
I'd  skin  you.  Hand  me  that  switch." 

The  switch  hovered  in  the  air  —  the  peril  was 
desperate— 

"My!     Look  behind  you,  aunt!" 

The  old  lady  whirled  round,  and  snatched  her 
skirts  out  of  danger.  The  lad  fled,  on  the  instant, 
scrambled  up  the  high  board  fence,  and  disappeared 
over  it. 

His  aunt  Polly  stood  surprised  a  moment,  and 
then  broke  into  a  gentle  laugh. 

"Hang  the  boy,  can't  I  never  learn  anything? 
Ain't  he  played  me  tricks  enough  like  that  for  me  to 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

be  looking  out  for  him  by  this  time?  But  old  fools 
is  the  biggest  fools  there  13.  Can't  learn  an  old  dog 
new  tricks,  as  the  saying  is.  But  my  goodness,  he 
never  plays  them  alike,  two  days,  and  how  is  a  body 
to  know  what's  coming?  'He  'pears  to  know  just 
how  long  he  can  torment  me  before  I  get  my  dander 
up,  and  he  knows  if  he  can  make  out  to  put  me  off 
for  a  minute  or  make  me  laugh,  it's  all  down  again 
and  I  can't  hit  him  a  lick. '  I  ain't  doing  my  duty 
by  that  boy,  and  that's  the  Lord's  truth,  goodness 
knows.  Spare  the  rod  and  spile  the  child,  as  the 
Good  Book  says.  I'm  a-laying  up  sin  and  suffering 
for  us  both,  I  know.  He's  full  of  the  Old  Scratch, 
but  laws-a-me!  he's  my  own  dead  sister's  boy,  poor 
thing,  and  I  ain't  got  the  heart  to  lash  him,  somehow. 
Every  time  I  let  him  off,  my  conscience  does  hurt 
me  so,  and  every  time  I  hit  him  my  old  heart  most 
breaks.  Well-a-well,  man  that  is  born  of  woman 
is  of  few  days  and  full  of  trouble,  as  the  Scripture 
says,  and  I  reckon  it's  so.  He'll  play  hookey  this 
evening,1  and  I'll  just  be  obleeged  to  make  him 
work,  to-morrow,  to  punish  him.  It's  mighty  hard 
to  make  him  work  Saturdays,  when  all  the  boys  is 
having  holiday,  but  he  hates  work  more  than  he 
hates  anything  else,  and  I've  got  to  do  some  of  my 
duty  by  him,  or  I'll  be  the  ruination  of  the  child." 

Tom  did  play  hookey,  and  he  had  a  very  good 

time.     He  got  back  home  barely  in  season  to  help 

Jim,  the  small  colored  boy,  saw  next-day's  wood 

and  split  the  kindlings  before  supper — at  least  he 

was  there  in  time  to  tell  his  adventures  to  Jim  while 

1  Southwestern  for  "afternoon." 

3 


MARK    TWAIN 

Jim  did  three-fourths  of  the  work.  Tom's  younger 
brother  (or  rather,  half-brother),  Sid,  was  already 
through  with  his  part  of  the  work  (picking  tp  chips), 
for  he  was  a  quiet  boy,  and  had  no  adventurous, 
troublesome  ways. 

While  Tom  was  eating  his  supper,  arid  stealing 
sugar  as  opportunity  offered,  Aunt  Polly  asked  him 
questions  that  were  full  of  guile,  and  very  deep — 
for  she  wanted  to  trap  him  into  damaging  reveal- 
ments.  Like  many  other  simple-hearted  souls,  it 
was  her  pet  vanity  to  believe  she  was  endowed  with 
a  talent  for  dark  and  mysterious  diplomacy,  and  she 
loved  to  contemplate  her  most  transparent  devices 
as  marvels  of  low  cunning.  Said  she: 

"Tom,  it  was  middling  warm  in  school,  warn't 
it?" 

"Yes'm." 

"Powerful  warm,  warn't  it?" 

"Yes'm." 

"Didn't  you  want  to  go  in  a-swimming,  Tom?" 

A  bit  of  a  scare  shot  through  Tom — a  touch  of 
uncomfortable  suspicion.  He  searched  Aunt  Polly's 
face,  but  it  told  him  nothing.  So  he  said: 

"No'm — well,  not  very  much." 

The  old  lady  reached  out  her  hand  and  felt  Tom's 
shirt,  and  said: 

"But  you  ain't  too  warm  now,  though."  And 
it  flattered  her  to  reflect  that  she  had  discovered 
that  the  shirt  was  dry  without  anybody  knowing 
that  that  was  what  she  had  in  her  mind.  But  in 
spite  of  her,  Tom  knew  where  the  wind  lay,  now. 
So  he  forestalled  what  might  be  the  next  move: 

4 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

"Some  of  us  pumped  on  our  heads — mine's  damp 
yet.  See?" 

Aunt  Polly  was  vexed  to  think  she  had  over 
looked  that  bit  of  circumstantial  evidence,  and 
missed  a  trick.  Then  she  had  a  new  inspiration: 

"Tom,  you  didn't  have  to  undo  your  shirt-collar 
where  I  sewed  it,  to  pump  on  your  head,  did  you? 
Unbutton  your  jacket!" 

The  trouble  vanished  out  of  Tom's  face.  He 
opened  his  jacket.  His  shirt -collar  was  securely 
sewed. 

"Bother!  Well,  go  'long  with  you.  I'd  made 
sure  you'd  played  hookey  and  been  a-swimming. 
But  I  forgive  ye,  Tom.  I  reckon  you're  a  kind  of 
a  singed  cat,  as  the  saying  is — better'n  you  look. 
This  time." 

She  was  half  sorry  her  sagacity  had  miscarried, 
and  half  glad  that  Tom  had  stumbled  into  obedient 
conduct  for  once. 

But  Sidney  said: 

"Well,  now,  if  I  didn't  think  you  sewed  his  collar 
with  white  thread,  but  it's  black." 

"Why,  I  did  sew  it  with  white!    Tom!" 

But  Tom  did  not  wait  for  the  rest.  As  he  went 
out  at  the  door  he  said : 

"Siddy,  I'll  lick  you  for  that." 

In  a  safe  place  Tom  examined  two  large  needles 
which  were  thrust  into  the  lapels  of  his  jacket,  and 
had  thread  bound  about  them — one  needle  carried 
white  thread  and  the  other  black.  He  said: 

"She'd  never  noticed  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Sid. 
Confound  it!  sometimes  she  sews  it  with  white,  and 

2  5 


MARK    TWAIN 

sometimes  she  sews  it  with  black.  I  wish  to  gee- 
miny  she'd  stick  to  one  or  t'other — I  can't  keep 
the  run  of  'em.  But  I  bet  you  I'll  lam  Sid  for  that. 
I'll  learn  him!" 

He  was  not  the  Model  Boy  of  the  village.  He 
knew  the  model  boy  very  well  though — and  loathed 

/him. 

'  //Within  two  minutes,  or  even  less,  he  had  for- 
1  gotten  all  his  troubles.  Not  because  his  troubles 
were  one  whit  less  heavy  and  bitter  to  him  than 
a  man's  are  to  a  man,  but  because  a  new  and  power 
ful  interest  bore  them  down  and  drove  them  out  of 
his  mind  for  the  time — just  as  men's  misfortunes 
are  forgotten  in  the  excitement  of  new  enterprises. 
This  new  interest  was  a  valued  novelty  in  whistling, 
which  he  had  just  acquired  from  a  negro,  and  he 
was  suffering  to  practise  it  undisturbed.  It  con 
sisted  in  a  peculiar  birdlike  turn,  a  sort  of  liquid 
warble,  produced  by  touching  the  tongue  to  the 
roof  of  the  mouth  at  short  intervals  in  the  midst  of 
the  music — the  reader  probably  remembers  how  to 
do  it,  if  he  has  ever  been  a  boy.  Diligence  and 
attention  soon  gave  him  the  knack  of  it,  and  he 
strode  down  the  street  with  his  mouth  full  of  har 
mony  and  his  soul  full  of  gratitude.  He  felt  much 
as  an  astronomer  feels  who  has  discovered  a  new 
planet — no  doubt,  as  far  as  strong,  deep,  unalloyed 
pleasure  is  concerned,  the  advantage  was  with  the 
boy,  not  the  astronomer. 

The  summer  evenings  were  long.  It  was  not  dark, 
yet.  Presently  Tom  checked  his  whistle.  A  stranger 
was  before  him — a  boy  a  shade  larger  than  himself. 

6 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

A  new-comer  of  any  age  or  either  sex  was  an  im 
pressive  curiosity  in  the  poor  little  shabby  village  of 
St.  Petersburg.  This  boy  was  well  dressed,  too — 
well  dressed  on  a  week-day.  This  was  simply  as 
tounding.  His  cap  was  a  dainty  thing,  his  close- 
buttoned  blue  cloth  roundabout  was  new  and  natty, 
and  so  were  his  pantaloons.  He  had  shoes  on — 
and  it  was  only  Friday.  He  even  wore  a  necktie,  a 
bright  bit  of  ribbon.  He  had  a  citified  air  about 
him  that  ate  into  Tom's  vitals.  The  more  Tom 
stared  at  the  splendid  marvel,  the  higher  he  turned 
up  his  nose  at  his  finery  arid  the  shabbier  and  shab 
bier  his  own  outfit  seemed  to  him  to  grow.  Neither 
boy  spoke.  If  one  moved,  the  other  moved — but 
only  sidewise,  in  a  circle;  they  kept  face  to  face 
and  eye  to  eye  all  the  time.  Finally  Tom  said: 

"I  can  lick  you!" 

"I'd  like  to  see  you  try  it.1' 

"Well,  I  can  do  it." 

"No  you  can't,  either." 

"Yes  I  can." 

"No  you  can't." 

"I  can." 

"You  can't." 

"Can!" 

"Can't!" 

An  uncomfortable  pause.     Then  Tom  said: 

"What's  your  name?" 

"Tisn't  any  of  your  business,  maybe." 

"Well  I  'low  I'll  make  it  my  business." 

"Well  why  don't  you?" 

"If  you  say  much,  I  will." 

7 


MARK     TWAIN 

"Much — much — much.     There  now." 

"Oh,  you  think  you're  mighty  smart,  don't  you? 
I  could  lick  you  with  one  hand  tied  behind  me,  if  I 
wanted  to." 

"Well  why  don't  you  do  it?  You  say  you  can 
do  it." 

"Well  I  will,  if  you  fool  with  me." 

"Oh  yes — I've  seen  whole  families  in  the  same 
fix." 

"Smarty!  You  think  you're  some,  now,  don't 
you?  Oh,  what  a  hat!" 

"You  can  lump  that  hat  if  you  don't  like  it.  I 
dare  you  to  knock  it  off — and  anybody  that  '11  take 
a  dare  will  suck  eggs." 

"You're  a  liar!" 

"You're  another." 

"You're  a  fighting  liar  and  dasn't  take  it  up." 

"Aw— take  a  walk!" 

"Say — if  you  give  me  much  more  of  your  sass 
I'll  take  and  bounce  a  rock  off'n  your  head." 

"Oh,  of  course  you  will." 

"Well  I  will'9  ' 

"Well  why  don't  you  do  it  then?  What  do  you 
keep  saying  you  will  for?  Why  don't  you  do  it? 
It's  because  you're  afraid." 

"I  ain't  afraid." 

"You  are." 

"I  ain't." 

"You  are." 

Another  pause,  and  more  eying  and  sidling  around 
each  other.  Presently  they  were  shoulder  to  shoulder. 
Tom  said: 

8 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"Get  away  from  here!" 

" Go  away  yourself!'* 

"I  won't." 

"I  won't  either." 

So  they  stood,  each  with  a  foot  placed  at  an  angle 
as  a  brace,  and  both  shoving  with  might  and  main, 
and  glowering  at  each  other  with  hate.  But  neither 
could  get  an  advantage.  After  struggling  till  both 
were  hot  and  flushed,  each  relaxed  his  strain  with 
watchful  caution,  and  Tom  said: 

"You're  a  coward  and  a  pup.  I'll  tell  my  big 
brother  on  you,  and  he  can  thrash  you  with  his  little 
finger,  and  I'll  make  him  do  it,  too." 

"What  do  I  care  for  your  big  brother?  I've  got 
a  brother  that's  bigger  than  he  is — and  what's 
more,  he  can  throw  him  over  that  fence,  too." 
[Both  brothers  were  imaginary.] 

"That's  a  lie." 

"Your  saying  so  don't  make  it  so." 

Tom  drew  a  line  in  the  dust  with  his  big  toe,  and 
said: 

"I  dare  you  to  step  over  that,  and  I'll  lick  you  till 
you  can't  stand  up.  Anybody  that  '11  take  a  dare 
will  steal  sheep." 

The  new  boy  stepped  over  promptly,  and  said: 

1 '  Now  you  said  you'd  do  it,  now  let's  see  you  do  it." 

"Don't  you  crowd  me  now;  you  better  look  out." 

"Well,  you  said  you'd  do  it — why  don't  you  do 
it?" 

"By  jingo!  for  two  cents  I  will  do  it." 

The  new  boy  took  two  broad  coppers  out  of  his 
pocket  and  held  them  out  with  derision.  Tom 

9 


MARK    TWAIN 

struck  them  to  the  ground.  In  an  instant  both 
boys  were  rolling  and  tumbling  in  the  dirt,  gripped 
together  like  cats;  and  for  the  space  of  a  minute 
they  tugged  and  tore  at  each  other's  hair  and  clothes, 
punched  and  scratched  each  other's  noses,  and 
covered  themselves  with  dust  and  glory.  Presently 
the  confusion  took  form  and  through  the  fog  of 
battle  Tom  appeared,  seated  astride  the  new  boy, 
and  pounding  him  with  his  fists. 

"Holler  'nuff!"  said  he. 

The  boy  only  struggled  to  free  himself.  He  was 
crying — mainly  from  rage. 

"Holler  'nuff!" — and  the  pounding  went  on. 

At  last  the  stranger  got  out  a  smothered  "'Nuff !" 
and  Tom  let  him  up  and  said : 

"Now  that  '11  learn  you.  Better  look  out  who 
you're  fooling  with  next  time." 

The  new  boy  went  off  brushing  the  dust  from  his 
clothes,  sobbing,  snuffling,  and  occasionally  looking 
back  and  shaking  his  head  and  threatening  what  he 
would  do  to  Tom  the  "next  time  he  caught  him 
out."  To  which  Tom  responded  with  jeers,  and 
started  off  in  high  feather,  and  as  soon  as  his  back 
was  turned  the  new  boy  snatched  up  a  stone,  threw 
it  and  hit  him  between  the  shoulders  and  then 
turned  tail  and  ran  like  an  antelope.  Tom  chased 
the  traitor  home,  and  thus  found  out  where  he 
lived.  He  then  held  a  position  at  the  gate  for  some 
time,  daring  the  enemy  to  come  outside,  but  the 
enemy  only  made  faces  at  him  through  the  window 
and  declined.  At  last  the  enemy's  mother  ap 
peared,  and  called  Tom  a  bad,  vicious,  vulgar  child, 

10 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

and  ordered  him  away.     So  he  went  away,  but  he 
said  he  "lowed"  to  "lay"  for  that  boy. 

He  got  home  pretty  late,  that  night,  and  when  he 
climbed  cautiously  in  at  the  window,  he  uncovered 
an  ambuscade,  in  the  person  of  his  aunt;  and  when 
she  saw  the  state  his  clothes  were  in  her  resolution 
to  turn  his  Saturday  holiday  into  captivity  at  hard 
labor  became  adamantine  in  its  firmness. 


CHAPTER  II 

O^ATURDAY  morning  was  come,  and  all  the  sum- 
vj  mer  world  was  bright  and  fresh,  and  brimming 
with  life.  There  was  a  song  in  every  heart;  and  if 
the  heart  was  young  the  music  issued  at  the  lips. 
There  was  cheer  in  every  face  and  a  spring  in  every 
step.  The  locust  trees  were  in  bloom  and  the 
fragrance  of  the  blossoms  filled  the  air.  Cardiff 
Hill,  beyond  the  village  and  above  it,  was  green  with 
vegetation,  and  it  lay  just  far  enough  away  to  seem 
a  QelecJabl£.Land,  dreamy,  reposeful,  and  inviting. 
Tom  appeared  on  the  sidewalk  with  a  bucket  of 
whitewash  and  a  long-handled  brush.  He  surveyed 
the  fence,  and  all  gladness  left  him  and  a  deep 
melancholy  settled  down  upon  his  spirit.  Thirty 
yards  of  board  fence  nine  feet  high.  Life  to  him 
seemed  hollow,  and  existence  but  a  burden.  Sigh 
ing  he  dipped  his  brush  and  passed  it  along  the 
topmost  plank;  repeated  the  operation;  did  it 
again;  compared  the  insignificant  whitewashed  streak 
with  the  far-reaching  continent  of  unwhitewashed 
fence,  and  sat  down  on  a  tree-box  discouraged.V  Jim 
came  skippiftgxout  at  the  gate  with  a  tin  pail, 
singing  "BuffalbxGals."  Bringing  water  from  tne 
town  pump  had  always  been  hateful  work  in  Tom') 
eyes,  before,  but  now^it  did  not  strike  him  so.  He 

12 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

remembered  that  there  was  company  at  the  pump. 
White,  mulatto,  and  negro  boys  and  girls  were  al 
ways  there  waiting  their  turns,  resting,  trading  play 
things,  quarreling,  fighting,  skylarking.  And  he 
remembered  that  although  the  pump  was  only  a 
hundred  arid  fifty  yards  off,  Jim  never  got  back  with 
a  bucket  of  water  under  an  hour — and  even  then 
somebody  generally  had  to  go  after  him.  Tom 
said: 

"Say,  Jim,  I'll  fetch  the  water  if  you'll  whitewash 


some." 


Jim  shook  his  head  and  said: 

"Can't,  Mars  Tom.  Ole  missis,  she  tole  me  I 
got  to  go  an'  git  dis  water  an*  not  stop  foolin'  roun' 
wid  anybody.  She  say  she  spec'  Mars  Tom  gwine 
to  ax  me  to  whitewash,  an'  so  she  tole  me  go  'long 
an'  'tend  to  my  own  business — she  'lowed  she'd 
'tend  to  de  whitewashing" 

"Oh,  never  you  mind  W^iat  she  said,  Jim.  That's 
the  way  she  always  talksX  Gimme  the  bucket — I 
won't  be  gone  only  a  minute.  She  won't  ever 
know." 

"Oh,  I  dasn't,  Mars  Tom.  Ole  missis  she'd  take 
an*  tar  de  head  off'n  me.  'Deed  she  would." 

"She!  She  never  licks  anybody — whacks  'em 
over  the  head  with  her  thimble — :and  who  cares  for 
that,  I'd  like  to  know.  She  talks  awful,  but  talk 
don't  hurt — anyways  it  don't  if  sfie  don't  cry. 
Jim,  I'll  give  you  a  marvel.  I'll  giv^xyou  a  white 
alley!"  Nfl/^-- 

Jim  began  to  waver. 

"White  alley,  Jim!    And  it's  a  bully  taw.1 

'3 


MARK     TWAIN 

"My!  Dat's  a  mighty  gay  marvel,  7  tell  you! 
But  Mars  Tom  I's  powerful  'fraid  ole  missis — " 

"And  besides,  if  you  will  I'll  show  you  my  sore 
toe.'1 

Jim  was  only  human — this  attraction  was  too 
much  for  him.  He  put  down  his  pail,  took  the 
white  alley,  and  bent  over  the  toe  with  absorbing 
interest  while  the  bandage  was  being  unwound.  In 
another  moment  he  was  flying  down  the  street  with 
his  pail  and  a  tingling  rear,  Tom  was  whitewashing 
with  vigor,  and  Aunt  Polly  was  retiring  from  the 
field  with  a  slipper  in  her  hand  and  triumph  in  her 
eye. 

But  Tom's  energy  did  not  last.  .?  He  began  to 
think  of  the  fun  he  had  planned  for  this  day,  and 
his  sorrows  multiplied.  Soon  the  free  boys  would 
come  tripping  along  on  all  sorts  of  delicious  expedi 
tions,  and  they  would  make  a  world  of  fun  of  him 
for  having  to  work — the  very  thought  of  it  burnt 
him  like  fire.  He  got  out  his  worldly  wealth  and 
examined  it — bits  of  toys,  marbles,  and  trash; 
enough  to  buy  an  exchange  of  work,  maybe,  but 
not  half  enough  to  buy  so  much  as  half  an  hour  of 
pure  freedom.  So  he  returned  his  straitened  means 
to  his  pocket,  and  gave  up  the  idea  of  trying 
to  buy  the  boys.  At  this  dark  and  hopeless  moment 
an  inspiration  burst  upon  him !  Nothing  less  than  a 
great,  magnificent  inspiration. 

He  took  up  his  brush  and  went  tranquilly  to  work. 
Ben  Rogers  hove  in  sight  presently — the  very  boy, 
of  all  boys,  whose  ridicule  he  had  been  dreading, 
jten's  gait  was  ttepEre?£^p-and-jm 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

that  his  heart  was  light  and  his  anticipations  high. 
He  was  eating  an  apple,  and  giving  a  long,  melodious 
whoop,  at  intervals,  followed  by  a  deep-toned  ding- 
dong-dong,  ding-dong-dong,  for  he  was  personating  a 
steamboat.  As  he  drew  near,  he  slackened  speed, 
took  the  middle  of  the  street,  leaned  far  over  to 
starboard  and  rounded  to  ponderously  and  with 
laborious  pomp  and  circumstance — for  he  was 
personating  the  Big  Missouri,  and  considered  him 
self  to  be  drawing  nine  feet  of  water.  He  was  boat 
and  captain  and  engine-bells  combined,  so  he  had  to 
imagine  himself  standing  on  his  own  hurricane-deck 
giving  the  orders  and  executing  them: 

"Stop  her,  sir!  Ting-a-ling-ling !"  The  headway 
ran  almost  out  and  he  drew  up  slowly  toward  the 
sidewalk. 

"Ship  up  to  back!  Ting-a-ling-ling !"  His  arms 
straightened  and  stiffened  down  his  sides. 

"Set  her  back  on  the  stabboard  1  Ting-a-ling- 
ling!  Chow!  ch-chow-wowJ  Chow!"  His  right 
hand,  meantime,  describing  stately  circles — for  it 
was  representing  a  forty-foot  wheel. 

"Let  her  go  back  on  the  labboard!  Ting-a-ling- 
ling!  Chow-ch-chow-chow!"  The  left  hand  began 
to  describe  circles. 

1 '  Stop  the  stabboard !  Ting-a-ling-ling !  Stop  the 
labboard!  Come  ahead  on  the  stabboard!  Stop 
her!  Let  your  outside  turn  over  slow!  Ting-a- 
ling-ling!  Chow-ow-ow!  Get  out  that  head-line! 
Lively  now!  Come — out  with  your  spring-line — 
what  're  you  about  there !  Take  a  turn  round  that 
stump  with  the  bight  of  it!  Stand  by  that  stage, 

15 


MARK     TWAIN 

now — let  her  go!  Done  with  the  engines,  sir! 
Ting-a-ling-ling!  Sh't!  s'Wt!  sh't!"  (trying  the  gauge- 
cocks). 

Tom  went  on  whitewashing — paid  no  attention  to 
the  steamboat.  Ben  stared  a  moment  and  then  said: 

"Hi-ji/    You1  re  up  a  stump,  ain't  you!" 

No  answer.  Tom  surveyed  his  last  touch  with  the 
eye  of  an  artist,  then  he  gave  his  brush  another 
gentle  sweep  and  surveyed  the  result,  as  before. 
Ben  ranged  up  alongside  of  him.  Tom's  mouth 
watered  for  the  apple,  but  he  stuck  to  his  work. 
Ben  said: 

"Hello,  old  chap,  you  got  to  work,  hey?" 

Tom  wheeled  suddenly  and  said : 

4 'Why,  it's  you,  Ben!     I  warn't  noticing." 

"Say — 7'm  going  in  a-swimming,  I  am.  Don't  }*ou 
wish  you  could?  But  of  course  you'd  druther  work 
— wouldn't  you  ?  Course  you  would !" 

Tom  contemplated  the  boy  a  bit,  and  said : 

"What  do  you  call  work?" 

"Why,  ain't  that  work?" 

Tom  resumed  his  whitewashing,  and  answered 
carelessly : 

"Well,  maybe  it  is,  and  maybe  it  ain't.  All  I 
know,  is,  it  suits  Tom  Sawyer." 

"Oh  come,  now,  you  don't  mean  to  let  on  that 
you  like  it?" 

The  brush  continued  to  move. 

"Like  it?  Well,  I  don't  see  why  I  oughtn't  to 
like  it.  Does  a  boy  get  a  chance  to  whitewash  a 
fence  every  day?" 

That  put  the  thing  in  a  new  light.  Ben  stopped 

16 

f 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

nibbling  his  apple.  Tom  swept  his  brush  daintily 
back  and  forth — stepped  back  to  note  the  effect — 
added  a  touch  here  and  there — criticized  the  effect 
again — Ben  watching  every  move  and  getting  more 
and  more  interested,  more  and  more  absorbed. 
Presently  he  said: 

"Say,  Tom,  let  me  whitewash  a  little.*' 

Tom  considered,  was  about  to  consent;  but  he 
altered  his  mind : 

"No — no — I  reckon  it  wouldn't  hardly  do,  Ben. 
You  see,  Aunt  Polly's  awful  particular  about  this 
fence — right  here  on  the  street,  you  know — but  if  it 
was  the  back  fence  I  wouldn't  mind  and  she  wouldn't. 
Yes,  she's  awful  particular  about  this  fence;  it's 
got  to  be  done  very  careful ;  I  reckon  there  ain't  one 
boy  in  a  thousand,  maybe  two  thousand,  that  can  do 
it  the  way  it's  got  to  be  done." 

"No — is  that  so?  Oh  come,  now — lemme  just 
try.  Only  just  a  little — I'd  let  you,  if  you  was  me, 
Tom." 

"Ben,  I'd  like  to,  honest  injun;  but  Aunt 
— well,  Jim  wanted  to  do  it,  but  she  wouldn't  let 
him;  Sid  wanted  to  do  it,  and  she  wouldn't  let  Sid. 
Now  don't  you  see  how  I'm  fixed?  If  you  was  to 
tackle  this  ience  and  anything  was  to  happen  to 
it—" 

"Oh,  shucks,  I'll  be  just  as  careful.  Now  lemme 
try.  Say — I'll  give  you  the  core  of  my  apple." 

"Well,here—    No, Ben, now  don't.    I'mafeard— " 

"I'll  give  you  all  of  it!" 

Tom  gave  up  the  brush  with  reluctance  in  his  face, 
but  alacrity  in  his  heart.  And  while  the  late  steamer 

17 


MARK    TWAIN 

Big  Missouri  worked  and  sweated  in  -  the  sun, 
the  retired  artist  sat  on  a  barrel  in  the  shade  close 
by,  dangled  his  legs,  munched  his  apple,  and  planned 
the  slaughter  of  more  innocents.  There  was  no 
lack  of  material;  boys  happened  along  every  little 
while;  they  came  to  jeer,  but  remained  to  white 
wash.  By  the  time  Ben  was  fagged  out,  Tom 
had  traded  the  next  chance  to  Billy  Fisher  for  a 
kite,  in  good  repair;  and  when  he  played  out, 
Johnny  Miller  bought  in  for  a  dead  rat  and  a  string 
to  swing  it  with — and  so  on,  and  so  on,  hour  after 
hour.  And  when  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  came, 
from  being  a  poor  poverty-stricken  boy  in  the  morn 
ing,  Tom  was  literally  rolling  in  wealth.  He  had 
beside  the  things  before  mentioned,  twelve  marbles, 
part  of  a  jews'-harp,  a  piece  of  blue  bottle-glass  to 
look  through,  a  spool  cannon,  a  key  that  wouldn't 
unlock  anything,  a  fragment  of  chalk,  a  glass  stop 
per  of  a  decanter,  a  tin  soldier,  a  couple  of  tadpoles, 
six  firecrackers,  a  kitten  with  only  one  eye,  a  brass 
door-knob,  a  dog-collar — but'  no  dog — the  handle 
of  a  knife,  four  pieces  of  orange-peel,  and  a  dilapi 
dated  old  window-sash. 

He  had  had  a  nice,  good,  idle  time  all  the  while — 
plenty  of  company — and  the  fence  had  three  coats 
of  whitewash  on  it!  If  he  hadn't  run  out  of  white 
wash,  he  would  have  bankrupted  every  boy  in  the 
village. 

Tom  said  to  himself  that  it  was  not  such  a  hollow 
world,  after  all.  He  had  discovered  a  great  law  of 
human  action,  without  knowing  it — namely,  that  in 
order  to  make  a  man  or  a  boy  covet  a  thing,  it  is 

18 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

only  necessary  to  make  the  thing  difficult  to  attain. 
If  he  had  been  a  great  and  wise  philosopher,  like 
the  writer  of  this  book,  he  would  now  have  compre 
hended  that  Work  consists  of  whatever  a  body  is 
obliged  to  do,  and  that  Play  consists  of  whatever  a 
body  is  not  obliged  to  do.  And  this  would  help  him 
to  understand  why  constructing  artificial  flowers  or 
performing  on  a  treadmill  is  work,  while  rolling 
tenpins  or  climbing  Mont  Blanc  is  only  amusement. 
There  are  wealthy  gentlemen  in  England  who  drive 
four-horse  passenger-coaches  twenty  or  thirty  miles 
on  a  daily  line,  in  the  summer,  because  the  privilege 
costs  them  considerable  money;  but  if  they  were 
offered  wages  for  the  service,  that  would  turn  it  into 
work  and  then  they  would  resign. 

The  boy  mused  awhile  over  the  substantial  change 
which  had  taken  place  in  his  worldly  circumstances, 
and  then  wended  toward  headquarters  to  report. 


CHAPTER  III 

TOM  presented  himself  before  Aunt  Polly,  who 
was  sitting  by  an  open  window  in  a  pleasant 
rearward  apartment,  which  was  bedroom,  breakfast- 
room,  dining-room,  and  library,  combined.  The 
balmy  summer  air,  the  restful  quiet,  the  odor  of  the 
flowers,  and  the  drowsing  murmur  of  the  bees  had 
had  their  effect,  and  she  was  nodding  over  her  knit 
ting — for  she  had  no  company  but  the  cat,  and  it 
was  asleep  in  her  lap.  Her  spectacles  were  propped 
up  on  her  gray  head  for  safety.  She  had  thought 
that  of  course  Tom  had  deserted  long  ago,  and  she 
wondered  at  seeing  him  place  himself  in  her  power 
again  in  this  intrepid  way.  He  said:  "Mayn't  I 
go  and  play  now,  aunt?" 

"What,  a'ready?    How  much  have  you  done?" 

"It's  all  done,  aunt." 

"Tom,  don't  lie  to  me— I  can't  bear  it." 

"I  ain't,  aunt;  it  is  all  done." 

Aunt  Polly  placed  small  trust  in  such  evidence. 
She  went  out  to  see  for  herself;  and  she  would  have 
been  content  to  find  twenty  per  cent,  of  Tom's  state 
ment  true.  When  she  found  the  entire  fence  white 
washed,  and  not  only  whitewashed  but  elaborately 
coated  and  recoated,  and  even  a  streak  added  to  the 
ground,  her  astonishment  was  almost  unspeakable. 
She  said: 

20 


VENTURES    .OF    TOM    SAWYER 

3ll,  I  never!  There's  no  getting  round  it, 
you  can  work  when  you're  a  mind  to,  Tom."  And 
then  she  diluted  the  compliment  by  adding,  "But 
it's  powerful  seldom  you're  a  mind  to,  I'm  bound 
to  say.  Well,  go  'long  and  play;  but  mind  you 
get  back  some  time  in  a  week,  or  I'll  tan  you." 

She  was  so  overcome  by  the  splendor  of  his 
achievement  that  she  took  him  into  the  closet  and 
selected  a  choice  apple  and  delivered  it  to  him, 
along  with  an  improving  lecture  upon  the  added 
value  and  flavor  a  treat  took  to  itself  when  it  came 
without  sin  through  virtuous  effort.  And  while  she 
closed  with  a  happy  Scriptural  flourish,  he  "hooked" 
a  doughnut. 

Then  he  skipped  out,  and  saw  Sid  just  starting  up 
the  outside  stairway  that  led  to  the  back  rooms  on 
the  second  floor.  Clods  were  handy  and  the  air  was 
full  of  them  in  a  twinkling.  They  raged  around  Sid 
like  a  hail-storm;  and  before  Aunt  Polly  could 
collect  her  surprised  faculties  and  sally  to  the  rescue, 
six  or  seven  clods  had  taken  personal  effect,  and 
Tom  was  over  the  fence  and  gone.  There  was  a 
gate,  but  as  a  general  thing  he  was  too  crowded  for 
time  to  make  use  of  it.  His  soul  was  at  peace,  now 
that  he  had  settled  with  Sid  for  calling  attention  to 
his  black  thread  and  getting  him  into  trouble. 

Tom  skirted  the  block,  and  came  round  into  a 
muddy  alley  that  led  by  the  back  of  his  aunt's  cow- 
stable.  He  presently  got  safely  beyond  the  reach 
of  capture  and  punishment,  and  hastened  toward  the 
public  square  of  the  village,  where  two  "military" 
companies  of  boys  had  met  for  conflict,  according 

3  21 


MARK     TWAIN 

to  previous  appointment.  Tom  was  General  of  one 
of  these  armies,  Joe  Harper  (a  bosom  friend)  General 
of  the  other.  These  two  great  commanders  did  not 
condescend  to  fight  in  person — that  being  better 
suited  to  the  still  smaller  fry — but  sat  together  on 
an  eminence  and  conducted  the  field  operations  by 
orders  delivered  through  aides-de-camp.  Tom's 
army  won  a  great  victory,  after  a  long  and  hard- 
fought  battle.  Then  the  dead  were  counted,  prison 
ers  exchanged,  the  terms  of  the  next  disagreement 
agreed  upon,  and  the  day  for  the  necessary  battle 
appointed;  after  which  the  armies  fell  into  line  and 
marched  away,  and  Tom  turned  homeward  alone. 

As  he  was  passing  by  the  house  where  Jeff 
Thatcher  lived,  he  saw  a  new  girl  in  the  garden — 
a  lovely  little  blue-eyed  creature  with  yellow  hair 
plaited  into  two  long  tails,  white  summer  frock  and 
embroidered  pantalettes.  The  fresh-crowned  hero 
fell  without  firing  a  shot.  A  certain  Amy  Lawrence 
vanished  out  of  his  heart  and  left  not  even  a  memory 
of  herself  behind.  He  had  thought  he  loved  her  to 
distraction,  he  had  regarded  his  passion  as  adora 
tion  ;  and  behold  it  was  only  a  poor  little  evanescent 
partiality.  He  had  been  months  winning  her;  she 
had  confessed  hardly  a  week  ago;  he  had  been  the 
happiest  and  the  proudest  boy  in  the  world  only 
seven  short  days,  and  here  in  one  instant  of  time  she 
had  gone  out  of  his  heart  like  a  casual  stranger 
whose  visit  is  done. 

He  worshiped  this  new  angel  with  furtive  eye,  till 
he  saw  that  she  had  discovered  him;  then  he  pre 
tended  he  did  not  know  she  was  present,  and  began 

22 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

to  "show  off"  in  all  sorts  of  absurd  boyish  ways, 
in  order  to  win  her  admiration.  He  kept  up  this 
grotesque  foolishness  for  some  time;  but  by  and  by, 
while  he  was  in  the  midst  of  some  dangerous  gym 
nastic  performances,  he  glanced  aside  and  saw  that 
the  little  girl  was  wending  her  way  toward  the 
house.  Tom  came  up  to  the  fence  and  leaned  on  it, 
grieving,  and  hoping  she  would  tarry  yet  awhile 
longer.  She  halted  a  moment  on  the  steps  and 
then  moved  toward  the  door.  Tom  heaved  a  great 
sigh  as  she  put  her  foot  on  the  threshold.  But  his 
face  lit  up,  right  away,  for  she  tossed  a  pansy  over 
the  fence  a  moment  before  she  disappeared. 

The  boy  ran  around  and  stopped  within  a  foot  or 
two  of  the  flower,  and  then  shaded  his  eyes  with  his 
hand  and  began  to  look  down  street  as  if  he  had 
discovered  something  of  interest  going  on  in  that 
direction.  Presently  he  picked  up  a  straw  and  began 
trying  to  balance  it  on  his  nose,  with  his  head  tilted 
far  back;  and  as  he  moved  from  side  to  side,  in  his 
efforts,  he  edged  nearer  and  nearer  toward  the 
pansy;  finally  his  bare  foot  rested  upon  it,  his  pliant 
toes  closed  upon  it,  and  he  hopped  away  with  the 
treasure  and  disappeared  round  the  corner.  But 
only  for  a  minute — only  while  he  could  button  the 
flower  inside  his  jacket,  next  his  heart — or  next  his 
stomach,  possibly,  for  he  was  not  much  posted  in 
anatomy,  and  not  hypercritical,  anyway. 

He  returned,  now,  and  hung  about  the  fence  till 
nightfall,  "showing  off,"  as  before;  but  the  girl 
never  exhibited  herself  again,  though  Tom  com 
forted  himself  a  little  with  the  hope  that  she  had 

23 


MARK    TWAIN 

been  near  some  window,  meantime,  and  been  aware 
of  his  attentions.  Finally  he  rode  home  reluctantly, 
with  his  poor  head  full  of  visions. 

All  through  supper  his  spirits  were  so  high  that 
his  aunt  wondered  "what  had  got  into  the  child." 
He  took  a  good  scolding  about  clodding  Sid,  and 
did  not  seem  to  mind  it  in  the  least.  He  tried  to 
steal  sugar  under  his  aunt's  very  nose,  and  got  his 
knuckles  rapped  for  it.  He  said : 

"Aunt,  you  don't  whack  Sid  when  he  takes  it." 

"Well,  Sid  don't  torment  a  body  the  way  you 
do.  You'd  be  always  into  that  sugar  if  I  warn't 
watching  you." 

Presently  she  stepped  into  the  kitchen,  and  Sid, 
happy  in  his  immunity,  reached  for  the  sugar- 
bowl — a  sort  of  glorying  over  Tom  which  was  well- 
nigh  unbearable.  But  Sid's  fingers  slipped  and  the 
bowl  dropped  and  broke.  Tom  was  in  ecstasies. 
In  such  ecstasies  that  he  even  controlled  his  tongue 
and  was  silent.  He  said  to  himself  that  he  would 
not  speak  a  word,  even  when  his  aunt  came  in,  but 
would  sit  perfectly  still  till  she  asked  who  did  the 
mischief;  and  then  he  would  tell,  and  there  would 
be  nothing  so  good  in  the  world  as  to  see  that  pet 
model  "catch  it."  He  was  so  brim  full  of  exulta 
tion  that  he  could  hardly  hold  himself  when  the  old 
lady  came  back  and  stood  above  the  wreck  dis 
charging  lightnings  of  wrath  from  over  her  spectacles. 
He  said  to  himself,  "Now  it's  coming!"  And  the 
next  instant  he  was  sprawling  on  the  floor!  The 
potent  palm  was  uplifted  to  strike  again  when  Tom 
cried  out: 

24 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

"Hold  on,  now,  what  'er  you  belting  me  for? — 
Sid  broke  it!" 

Aunt  Polly  paused,  perplexed,  and  Tom  looked 
for  healing  pity.  But  when  she  got  her  tongue 
again,  she  only  said: 

"Umf!  Well,  you  didn't  get  a  lick  amiss,  I 
reckon.  You  been  into  some  other  audacious  mis 
chief  when  I  wasn't  around,  like  enough." 

Then  her  conscience  reproached  her,  and  she 
yearned  to  say  something  kind  and  loving;  but  she 
judged  that  this  would  be  construed  into  a  confes 
sion  that  she.,  had  been  in  the  wrong,  and  discipline 
forbade  that.  So  she  kept  silence,  and  went  about 
her  affairs  with  a  troubled  heart.  Tom  sulked  in  a 
corner  and  exalted  his  woes.  He  knew  that  in  her 
heart  his  aunt  was  on  her  knees  to  him,  and  he  was 
morosely  gratified  by  the  consciousness  of  it.  He 
would  hang  out  no  signals,  he  would  take  notice 
of  none.  He  knew  that  a  yearning  glance  fell  upon 
him,  now  and  then,  through  a  film  of  tears,  but  he 
refused  recognition  of  it.  He  pictured  himself  lying 
sick  unto  death  and  his  aunt  bending  over  him  be 
seeching  one  little  forgiving  word,  but  he  would 
turn  his  face  to  the  wall,  and  die  with  that  word  un 
said.  Ah,  how  would  she  feel  then?  And  he  pic 
tured  himself  brought  home  from  the  river,  dead, 
with  his  curls  all  wet,  and  his  sore  heart  at  rest. 
How  she  would  throw  herself  upon  him,  and  how 
her  tears  would  fall  like  rain,  and  her  lips  pray  God 
to  give  her  back  her  boy  and  she  would  never,  never 
abuse  him  any  more!  But  he  would  lie  there  cold 
and  white  and  make  no  sign — a  poor  little  sufferer, 

25 


MARK    TWAIN 

whose  griefs  were  at  an  end.  He  so  worked  upon 
his  feelings  with  the  pathos  of  these  dreams,  that  he 
had  to  keep  swallowing,  he  was  so  like  to  choke; 
and  his  eyes  swam  in  a  blur  of  water,  which  over 
flowed  when  he  winked,  and  ran  down  and  trickled 
from  the. end  of  his  nose.  And  such  a  luxury  to 
him  was  this  petting  of  his  sorrows,  that  he  could 
not  bear  to  have  any  worldly  cheeriness  or  any 
grating  delight  intrude  upon  it;  it  was  too  sacred 
for  such  contact ;  and  so,  presently,  when  his  cousin 
Mary  danced  in,  all  alive  with  the  joy  of  seeing 
home  again  after  an  age-long  visit  of  one  week  to 
the  country,  he  got  up  and  moved  in  clouds  and 
darkness  out  at  one  door  as  she  brought  song  and 
sunshine  in  at  the  other. 

He  wandered  far  from  the  accustomed  haunts  of 
boys,  and  sought  desolate  places  that  were  in  har 
mony  with  his  spirit.  A  log  raft  in  the  river  invited 
him,  and  he  seated  himself  on  its  outer  edge  and 
contemplated  the  dreary  vastness  of  the  stream, 
wishing,  the  while,  that  he  could  only  be  drowned, 
all  at  once  and  unconsciously,  without  undergoing 
the  uncomfortable  routine  devised  by  nature.  Then 
he  thought  of  his  flower.  He  got  it  out,  rumpled 
and  wilted,  and  it  mightily  increased  his  dismal 
felicity.  He  wondered  if  she  would  pity  him  if  she 
knew?  Would  she  cry,  and  wish  that  she  had  a 
right  to  put  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  comfort 
him?  Or  vould  she  turn  coldly  away  like  all  the 
hollow  world?  This  picture  brought  such  an  agony 
of  pleasurable  suffering  that  he  worked  it  over  and 
over  again  in  his  mind  and  set  it  up  in  new  and 

26 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

varied  lights,  till  he  wore  it  threadbare.  At  last  he 
rose  up  sighing  and  departed  in  the  darkness. 

About  half  past  nine  or  ten  o'clock  he  came  along 
the  deserted  street  to  where  the  Adored  Unknown 
lived;  he  paused  a  moment;  no  sound  fell  upon  his 
listening  ear;  a  candle  was  casting  a  dull  gLow  upon 
the  curtain  of  a  second-story  window.  Was  the 
sacred  presence  there?  He  climbed  the  fence, 
threaded  his  stealthy  way  through  the  plants,  till 
he  stood  under  that  window;  he  looked  up  at  it 
long,  and  with  emotion;  then  he  laid  him  down  on 
the  ground  under  it,  disposing  himself  upon  his 
back,  with  his  hands  clasped  upon  his  breast  and 
holding  his  poor  wilted  flower.  And  thus  he  would 
die — out  in  the  cold  world,  with  no  shelter  over  his 
homeless  head,  no  friendly  hand  to  wipe  the  death- 
damps  from  his  brow,  no  loving  face  to  bend  pity 
ingly  over  him  when  the  great  agony  came.  And 
thus  she  would  see  him  when  she  looked  out  upon 
the  glad  morning,  and  oh !  would  she  drop  one  little 
tear  upon  his  poor,  lifeless  form,  would  she  heave 
one  little  sigh  to  see  a  bright  young  life  so  rudely 
blighted,  so  untimely  cut  down? 

The  window  went  up,  a  maid-servant's  discordant 
voice  profaned  the  holy  calm,  and  a  deluge  of  water 
drenched  the  prone  martyr's  remains! 

The  strangling  hero  sprang  up  with  a  relieving 
snort.  There  was  a  whiz  as  of  a  missile  in  the  air, 
mingled  with  the  murmur  of  a  curse,  a  sound  as  of 
shivering  glass  followed,  and  a  small,  vague  form 
went  over  the  fence  and  shot  away  in  the  gloom. 

Not  along  after,  as  Tom,  all  undressed  for  bed, 

27 


MARK     TWAIN 

was  surveying  his  drenched  garments  by  the  light  of 
a  tallow  dip,  Sid  woke  up;  but  if  he  had  any  dim 
idea  of  making  any  "references  to  allusions,"  he 
thought  better  of  it  and  held  his  peace,  for  there 
was  danger  in  Tom's  eye. 

Tom  turned  in  without  the  added  vexation  of 
prayers,  and  Sid  made  mental  note  of  the  omission. 


CHAPTER  IV 

r  I  ^HE  sun  rose  upon  a  tranquil  world,  and  beamed 
1  down  upon  the  peaceful  village  like  a  benedic 
tion.  Breakfast  over,  Aunt  Polly  had  family  wor 
ship:  it  began  with  a  prayer  built  from  the  ground 
up  of  solid  courses  of  Scriptural  quotations,  welded 
together  with  a  thin  mortar  of  originality ;  and  from 
the  summit  of  this  she  delivered  a  grim  chapter  of  I 
the  Mosaic  Law,  as  from  Sinai. 

Then  Tom  girded  up  his  loins,  so  to  speak,  and 
went  to  work  to  "get  his  verses."  Sid  had  learned 
his  lesson  days  before.  Tom  bent  all  his  energies  to 
the  memorizing  of  five  verses,  and  he  chose  part  of 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  because  he  could  find  no 
verses  that  were  shorter.  At  the  end  of  half  an 
hour  Tom  had  a  vague  general  idea  of  his  lesson, 
but  no  more,  for  his  mind  was  traversing  the  whole 
field  of  human  thought,  and  his  hands  were  busy 
with  distracting  recreations.  Mary  took  his  book  to 
hear  him  recite,  and  he  tried  to  find  his  way  through 
the  fog: 

"Blessed  are  the — a — a — " 

"Poor—" 

"Yes — poor;  blessed  are  the  poor — a — a — " 

"Inspirit—" 

"In  spirit;  blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for 
they— they— " 

29 


MARK     TWAIN 

"Theirs—" 

"For  theirs.  Blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit,  for 
theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Blessed  are  they 
that  mourn,  for  they — they — " 

"Sh— " 

"  For  they— a— " 

"S,  H,  A—" 

"For  they  S,  H— Oh,  I  don't  know  what  it  is!" 

"SkalU" 

"Oh,  shall!  for  they  shall — for  they  shall — a 
—a — shall  mourn — a — a — blessed  are  they  that 
shall — they  that — a — they  that  shall  mourn,  for 
they  shall — a — shall  what?  Why  don't  you  tell  me, 
Mary? — what  do  you  want  to  be  so  mean  for?'1 

"Oh,  Tom,  you  poor  thick-headed  thing,  I'm 
not  teasing  you.  I  wouldn't  do  that.  You  must 
go  and  learn  it  again.  Don't  you  be  discouraged, 
Tom,  you'll  manage  it — and  if  you  do,  I'll  give 
you  something'  ever  so  nice.  There,  now,  that's  a 
good  boy." 

"All  right!    What  is  it,  Mary?' tell  me  what  it  is." 

"Never  you  mind,  Tom/  You  know  if  I  say  it's 
nice,  it  is  nice." 

"You  bet  you  that's  so,  Mary.  .All  right,  I'll 
tackle  it  again." 

And  he  did  "tackle  it  again" — and  under  the 
double  pressure  of  curiosity  and  prospective  gain, 
he  did  it  with  such  spirit  that  he  accomplished  a 
shining  success.  Mary  gave  him  -a  brand-new  * '  Bar 
low"  knife  worth  twelve  and  a  half  cents;  and  the 
convulsion  of  delight  that  swept  his  system  shook 
him  to  his  foundations.  True,  the  knife  would  not 

30 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

cut  anything,  but  it  was  a  "sure-enough"  Barlow, 
and  there  was  inconceivable  grandeur  in  that — 
though  where  the  Western  boys  ever  got  the  idea 
that  such  a  weapon  could  possibly  be  counterfeited 
to  its  injury,  is  an  imposing  mystery  and  will  always 
remain  so,  perhaps.  Tom  contrived  to  scarify  the 
cupboard  with  it,  and  was  arranging  to  begin  on  the 
bureau,  when  he  was  called  off  to  dress  for  Sunday- 
school. 

Mary  gave  him  a  tin  basin  of  water  and  a  piece  of 
soap,  and  he  went  outside  the  door  and  set  the  basin 
on  a  little  bench  there;  then  he  dipped  the  soap  in 
the  water  and  laid  it  down;  turned  up  his  sleeves; 
poured  out  the  water  on  the  ground,  gently,  and 
then  entered  the  kitchen  and  began  to  wipe  his  face 
diligently  on  the  towel  behind  the  door.  But  Mary 
removed  the  towel  and  said: 

"Now  ain't  you  ashamed,  Tom!  You  mustn't 
be  so  bad.  Water  won't  hurt  you." 

Tom  was  a  trifle  disconcerted.  The  basin  was 
refilled,  and  this  time  he  stood  over  it  a  little  while, 
gathering  resolution;  took  in  a  big  breath  and 
began.  When  he  entered  the  kitchen  presently, 
with  both  eyes  shut  and  groping  for  the  towel  with 
his  hands,  an  honorable  testimony  of  suds  and  water 
was  dripping  from  his  face.  But  when  he  emerged 
from  the  towel,  he  was  not  yet  satisfactory,  for  the 
clean  territory  stopped  short  at  his  chin  and  his 
jaws,  like  a  mask;  below  and  beyond  this  line  there 
was  a  dark  expanse  of  unirrigated  soil  that  spread 
downward  in  front  and  backward  around  his  neck. 
Mary  took  him  in  hand,  and  when  she  was  done 


MARK    TWAIN 

with  him  he  was  a  man  and  a  brother,  without  dis 
tinction  of  color,  and  his  saturated  hair  was  neatly 
brushed,  and  its  short  curls  wrought  into  a  dainty 
and  symmetrical  general  effect.  [He  privately 
smoothed  out  the  curls,  with  labor  and  difficulty, 
and  plastered  his  hair  close  down  to  his  head;  for 
he  held  curls  to  be  effeminate,  and  his  own  filled  his 
life  with  bitterness.]  Then  Mary  got  out  a  suit  of 
his  clothing  that  had  been  used  only  on  Sundays 
during  two  years — they  were  simply  called  his 
"other  clothes" — and  so  by  that  we  know  the  size 
of  his  wardrobe.  The  girl  "put  him  to  rights" 
after  he  had  dressed  himself;  she  buttoned  his  neat 
roundabout  up  to  his  chin,  turned  his  vast  shirt- 
collar  down  over  his  shoulders,  brushed  him  off  and 
crowned  him  with  his  speckled  straw  hat.  He  now 
looked  exceedingly  improved  and  uncomfortable. 
He  was  fully  as  uncomfortable  as  he  looked;  for 
there  was  a  restraint  about  whole  clothes  and  clean 
liness  that  galled  him.  He  hoped  that  Mary  would 
forget  his  shoes,  but  the  hope  was  blighted;  she 
coated  them  thoroughly  with  tallow,  as  was  the 
custom,  and  brought  them  out.  He  lost  his  temper 
and  said  he  was  always  being  made  to  do  everything 
he  didn't  want  to  do.  But  Mary  said,  persuasively: 

"Please,  Tom— that's  a  good  boy." 

So  he  got  into  the  shoes  snarling.  Mary  was  soon 
ready,  and  the  three  children  set  out  for  Sunday- 
school — a  place  that  Tom  hated  with  his  whole 
heart;  but  Sid  and  Mary  were  fond  of  it. 

Sabbath-school  hours  were  from  nine  to  half  past 
ten;  and  then  church  service.  Two  of  the  children 

32 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

always  remained  for  the  sermon  voluntarily,  and  the 
other  always  remained  too — for  stronger  reasons. 
The  church's  high-backed,  uncushioned  pews  would 
seat  about  three  hundred  persons;  the  edifice  was 
but  a  small,  plain  affair,  with  a  sort  of  pine  board 
tree-box  on  top  of  it  for  a  steeple.  At  the  door 
Tom  dropped  back  a  step  and  accosted  a  Sunday- 
dressed  comrade: 

"Say,  Billy,  got  a  yaller  ticket?" 

"Yes." 

"What  '11  you  take  for  her?" 

"What  '11  you  give?" 

"Piece  of  lickrish  and  a  fish-hook."  * 

"Less  see  *em." 

Tom  exhibited.  They  were  satisfactory,  and  the 
property  changed  hands.  Then  Tom  traded  a 
couple  of  white  alleys  for  three  red  tickets,  and 
some  small  trifle  or  other  for  a  couple  of  blue  ones. 
He  waylaid  other  boys  as  they  came,  and  went  on 
buying  tickets  of  various  colors  ten  or  fifteen  minutes 
longer.  He  entered  the  church,  now,  with  a  swarm 
of  clean  and  noisy  boys  and  girls,  proceeded  to  his 
seat  and  started  a  quarrel  with  the  first  boy  that 
came  handy.  The  teacher,  a  grave,  elderly  man, 
interfered;  then  turned  his  back  a  moment  and  Tom 
pulled  a  boy's  hair  in  the  next  bench,  and  was  ab 
sorbed  in  his  book  when  the  boy  turned  around; 
stuck  a  pin  in  another  boy,  presently,  in  order  to 
hear  him  say  "Ouch!"  and  got  a  new  reprimand 
from  his  teacher.  Tom's  whole  class  were  of 
a  pattern — restless,  noisy,  and  troublesome.  When 
they  came  to  recite  their  lessons,  not  one  of  them 

33 


MARK    TWAIN 

"    j&tff 
knew  his  verses  perfectly,  btfJWiad  to  be  prompted 

all  along.  However,  triey  worried  through,  and 
each  got  his  reward — in  small  blue  tickets,  each 
with  a  passage  of  Scripture  on  it ;  each  blue  ticket  was 
pay  for  two  verses  of  the  recitation.  Ten  blue 
tickets  equaled  a  red  one,  and  could  be  exchanged 
for  it;  ten  red  tickets  equaled  a  yellow  one;  for  ten 
yellow  tickets  the  superintendent  gave  a  very  plainly 
bound  Bible  (worth  forty  cents  in  those  easy  times) 
to  the  pupil.  How  many  of  my  readers  would  have 
the  industry  and  application  to  memorize  two  thou 
sand  verses,  even  for  a  Dore  Bible?  And  yet  Mary 
had  acquired  two  Bibles  in  this  way — it  was  the 
patient  work  of  two  years — and  a  boy  of  German 
parentage  had  won  four  or  five.  He  once  recited 
three  thousand  verses  without  stopping;  but  the 
strain  upon  his  mental  faculties  was  too  great,  and 
he  was  little  better  than  an  idiot  from  that  day 
forth — a  grievous  misfortune  for  the  school,  for  on 
great  occasions,  before  company,  the  superintendent 
(as  Tom  expressed  it)  had  always  made  this  boy 
come  out  and  " spread  himself."  Only  the  older 
pupils  managed  to  keep  their  tickets  and  stick  to 
their  tedious  work  long  enough  to  get  a  Bible,  and 
so  the  delivery  of  one  of  these  prizes  was  a  rare  and 
noteworthy  circumstance;  the  successful  pupil  was 
so  great  and  conspicuous  for  that  day  that  on  the 
spot  every  scholar's  heart  was  fired  with  a  fresh 
ambition  that  often  lasted  a  couple  of  weeks.  It  is 
possible  that  Tom's  mental  stomach  had  never 
really  hungered  for  one  of  those  prizes,  but  un 
questionably  his  entire  being  had  for  many  a 

34 


ADVENTURES    OP     TOM     SAWYER 


day  longed  for  the*  fc^and  the  eclat  that  came 
with  it.  **<"•. 

In  due  course  the  superintendent  stood  up  in 
front  of  the  pulpit,  with  a  closed  hymn-book  in  his 
hand  and  his  forefinger  inserted  between  its  leaves, 
and  commanded  attention.  When  a  Sunday-school 
superintendent  makes  his  customary  little  speech,  a 
hymn-book  in  the  hand  is  as  necessary  as  is  the 
inevitable  sheet  of  music  in  the  hand  of  a  singer 
who  stands  forward  on  the  platform  and  sings  a  solo 
at  a  concert — though  why,  is  a  mystery :  for  neither 
the  hymn-book  nor  the  sheet  of  music  is  ever  re 
ferred  to  by  the  sufferer.  This  superintendent  was 
a  slim  creature  of  thirty-five,  with  a  sandy  goatee 
and  short  sandy  hair;  he  wore  a  stiff  standing- 
collar  whose  upper  edge  almost  reached  his  ears 
and  whose  sharp  points  curved  forward  abreast  the 
corners  of  his  mouth — a  fence  that  compelled  a 
straight  lookout  ahead,  and  a  turning  of  the  whole 
body  when  a  side  view  was  required;  his  chin  was 
propped  on  a  spreading  cravat  which  was  as  broad 
and  as  long  as  a  bank-note,  and  had  fringed  ends; 
his  boot-toes  were  turned  sharply  up,  in  the  fashion 
of  the  day,  like  sleigh-runners — an  effect  patiently 
and  laboriously  produced  by  the  young  men  by 
sitting  with '  their  toes  pressed  against  a  wall  for 
hours  together.  Mr.  Walters  was  very  earnest  of 
mien,  and  very  sincere  and  honest  at  heart;  and  he 
held  sacred  things  and  places  in  such  reverence,  and 
so  separated  them  from  worldly  matters,  that  un 
consciously  to  himself  his  Sunday-school  voice  had 
acquired  a  peculiar  intonation  which  was  wholly 

35 


MARK     TWAIN 

absent  on  week-days.  He  began  after  this  fash 
ion: 

"Now,  children,  I  want  you  all  to  sit  up  just  as 
straight  and  pretty  as  you  can  and  give  me  all  your 
attention  for  a  minute  or  two.  There — that  is  it. 
That  is  the  way  good  little  boys  and  girls  should  do. 
I  see  one  little  girl  who  is  looking  out  of  the  window 
— I  am  afraid  she  thinks  I  am  out  there  some 
where — perhaps  up  in  one  of  the  trees  making  a 
speech  to  the  little  birds.  [Applausive  titter.]  I 
want  to  tell  you  how  good  it  makes  me  feel  to  see 
so  many  bright,  clean  little  faces  assembled  in  a 
place  like  this,  learning  to  do  right  and  be  good." 
And  so  forth  and  so  on.  It  is  not  necessary  to  set 
down  the  rest  of  the  oration.  It  was  of  a  pattern 
which  does  not  vary,  and  so  it  is  familiar  to  us  all. 
The  latter  third  of  the  speech  was  marred  by  the 
resumption  of  fights  and  other  recreations  among 
certain  of  the  bad  boys,  and  by  fidgetings  and 
whisperings  that  extended  far  and  wide,  washing 
even  to  the  bases  of  isolated  and  incorruptible  rocks 
like  Sid  and  Mary.  But  now  every  sound  ceased 
suddenly,  with  the  subsidence  of  Mr.  Walters's  voice, 
and  the  conclusion  of  the  speech  was  received  with 
a  burst  of  silent  gratitude. 

A  good  part  of  the  whispering  had  been  occa 
sioned  by  an  event  which  was  more  or  less  rare — 
the  entrance  of  visitors:  lawyer  Thatcher,  accom 
panied  by  a  very  feeble  and  aged  man;  a  fine, 
portly,  middle-aged  gentleman  with  iron-gray  hair; 
and  a  dignified  lady  who  was  doubtless  the  latter's 
wife.  The  lady  was  leading  a  child.  Tom  had 

36 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

been  restless  and  full  of  chafings  and  repinings ;  con 
science-smitten,  too — he  could  not  meet  Amy 
Lawrence's  eye,  he  could  not  brook  her  loving  gaze. 
But  when  he  saw  this  small  new-comer  his  soul  was 
all  ablaze  with  bliss  in  a  moment.  The  next  moment 
he  was  "showing  off"  with  all  his  might — cuffing 
boys,  pulling  hair,  making  faces — in  a  word,  using 
every  art  that  seemed  likely  to  fascinate  a  girl  and 
win  her  applause.  His  exaltation  had  but  one  alloy 
— the  memory  of  his  humiliation  in  this  angel's  garden 
— and  that  record  in  sand  was  fast  washing  out,  under 
the  waves  of  happiness  that  were  sweeping  over  it  now. 
The  visitors  were  given  the  highest  seat  of  honor, 
and  as  soon  as  Mr.  Walters's  speech  was  finished,  he 
introduced  them  to  the  school.  The  middle-aged 
man  turned  out  to  be  a  prodigious  personage — no 
less  a  one  than  the  county  judge — altogether  the 
most  august  creation  these  children  had  ever  looked 
upon — and  they  wondered  what  kind  of  material 
he  was  made  of — and  they  half  wanted  to  hear  him 
roar,  and  were  half  afraid  he  might,  too.  He  was 
from  Constantinople,  twelve  miles  away — so  he  had 
traveled,  and  seen  the  world — these  very  eyes  had 
looked  upon  the  county  courthouse — which  was 
said  to  have  a  tin  roof.  The  awe  which  these  reflec 
tions  inspired  was  attested  by  the  impressive  silence 
and  the  ranks  of  staring  .eyes.  This  was  the  great 
Judge  Thatcher,  brother  of  their  own  lawyer.  Jeff 
Thatcher  immediately  went  forward,  to  be  familiar, 
with  the  great  man  and  be  envied  by  the  school.  It 
would  have  been  music  to  his  soul  to  hear  the 
whisperings : 
4  37 


MARK     TWAIN 

"Look  at  him,  Jim!  He's  a-going  up  there. 
Say — look!  he's  a-going  to  shake  hands  with  him 
— he  is  shaking  hands  with  him!  By  jings,  don't 
you  wish  you  was  Jeff?" 

Mr.  Walters  fell  to  "showing  off,"  with  all  sorts 
of  official  bustlings  and  activities,  giving  orders, 
delivering  judgments,  discharging  directions  here, 
there,  everywhere  that  he  could  find  a  target.  The 
librarian  "showed  off" — running  hither  and  thither 
with  his  arms  full  of  books  and  making  a  deal  of  the 
splutter  and  fuss  that  insect  authority  delights  in. 
The  young  lady  teachers  "showed  off"— bending 
sweetly  over  pupils  that  were  lately  being  boxed, 
lifting  pretty  warning  fingers  at  bad  little  boys  and 
patting  good  ones  lovingly.  The  young  gentlemen 
teachers  "showed  off"  with  small  scoldings  and 
other  little  displays  of  authority  and  fine  attention 
to  discipline — and  most  of  the  teachers,  of  both  sexes, 
found  business  up  at  the  library,  by  the  pulpit;  and 
it  was  business  that  frequently  had  to  be  done  over 
again  two  or  three  times  (with  much  seeming  vexa 
tion).  The  little  girls  "showed  off  "  in  various  ways, 
and  the  little  boys  "showed  off"  with  such  diligence 
that  the  air  was  thick  with  paper  wads  and  the 
murmur  of  scufHings.  And  above  it  all  the  great 
man  sat  and  beamed  a  majestic  judicial  smile  upon 
all  the  house,  and  warmed  himself  in  the  sun  of  his 
own  grandeur — for  he  was  "showing  off,"  too. 

There  was  only  one  thing  wanting,  to  make  Mr. 
Walters's  ecstasy  complete,  and  that  was  a  chance  to 
deliver  a  Bible  prize  and  exhibit  a  prodigy.  Several 
pupils  had  a  few  yellow  tickets,  but  none  had  enough 

38 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

f 

—he  had  been  around  among  the  star  pupils  in 
quiring.  He  would  have  given  worlds,  now,  to  have 
that  German  lad  back  again  with  a  sound  mind. 

And  now  at  this  moment,  when  hope  was  dead, 
Tom  Sawyer  came  forward  with  nine  yellow  tickets, 
nine  red  tickets,  and  ten  blue  ones,  and  demanded  a 
Bible.  This  was  a  thunderbolt  out  of  a  clear  sky. 
Walters  was  not  expecting  an  application  from  this 
source  for  the  next  ten  years.  But  there  was  no 
getting  around  it — here  were  the  certified  checks, 
and  they  were  good  for  their  face.  Tom  was  there 
fore  elevated  to  a  place  with  the  Judge  and  the 
other  elect,  and  the  great  news  was  announced  from 
headquarters.  It  was  the  most  stunning  surprise  of 
the  decade,  and  so  profound  was  the  sensation  that 
it  lifted  the  new  hero  up  to  the  judicial  one's  alti 
tude,  and  the  school  had  two  marvels  to  gaze  upon 
in  place  of  one.  The  boys  were  all  eaten  up  with 
envy — but  those  that  suffered  the  bitterest  pangs 
were  those  who  perceived  too  late  that  they  them 
selves  had  contributed  to  this  hated  splendor  by 
trading  tickets  to  Tom  for  the  wealth  he  had  amassed 
in  selling  whitewashing  privileges.  These  despised 
themselves,  as  being  the  dupes  of  a  wily  fraud,  a 
guileful  snake  in  the  grass. 

The  prize  was  delivered  to  Tom  with  as  much 
effusion  as  the  superintendent  could  pump  up  under 
the  circumstances;  but  it  lacked  somewhat  of  the 
true  gush,  for  the  poor  fellow's  instinct  taught  him 
that  there  was  a  mystery  here  that  could  not  well 
bear  the  light,  perhaps;  it  was  simply  preposterous 
that  this  boy  had  warehoused  two  thousand  sheaves 

39 


MARK     TWAIN 

of  Scriptural  wisdom  on  his  premises — a  dozen 
would  strain  his  capacity,  without  a  doubt. 

Amy  Lawrence  was  proud  and  glad,  and  she  tried 
to  make  Tom  see  it  in  her  face — but  he  wouldn't 
look.  She  wondered;  then  she  was  just  a  grain 
troubled;  next  a  dim  suspicion  came  and  went — 
came  again;  she  watched;  a  furtive  glance  told  her 
worlds — and  then  her  heart  broke,  and  she  was 
jealous,  and  angry,  and  the  tears  came  and  she 
hated  everybody.  Tom  most  of  all  (she  thought). 

Tom  was  introduced  to  the  Judge;  but  his  tongue 
was  tied,  his  breath  would  hardly  come,  his  heart 
quaked — partly  because  of  the  awful  greatness  of 
the  man,  but  mainly  because  he  was  her  parent.  He 
would  have  liked  to  fall  down  and  worship  him,  if  it 
were  in  the  dark.  The  Judge  put  his  hand  on 
Tom's  head  and  called  him  a  fine  little  man,  and 
asked  him  what  his  name  was.  The  boy  stammered, 
gasped,  and  got  it  out : 

"Tom." 

"Oh,  no,  not  Tom— it  is—" 

"Thomas." 

"Ah,  that's  it.  I  thought  there  was  more  to  it, 
maybe.  That's  very  well.  But  you've  another 
one  I  dare  say,  and  you'll  tell  it  to  me,  won't 
you?" 

"Tell  the  gentleman  your  other  name,  Thomas," 
said  Walters,  "and  say  sir.  You  mustn't  forget 
your  manners." 

"Thomas  Sawyer—sir." 

"That's  it!  That's  a  good  boy.  Fine  boy. 
Fine,  manly  little  fellow.  Two  thousand  verses  i» 

40 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYjL,. 

a  great  many — very,  very  great  many.  And  you 
never  can  be  sorry  for  the  trouble  you  took  to  learn 
them;  for  knowledge  is  worth  more  than  anything 
there  is  in  the  world;  it's  what  makes  great  men 
and  good  men;  you'll  be  a  great  man  and  a  good 
man  yourself,  some  day,  Thomas,  and  then  you'll 
look  back  and  say,  It's  all  owing  to  the  precious 
Sunday-school  privileges  of  my  boyhood — it's  all 
owing  to  my  dear  teachers  that  taught  me  to  learn 
— it's  all  owing  to  the  good  superintendent,  who 
encouraged  me,  and  watched  over  me,  and  gave  me 
a  beautiful  Bible — a  splendid  elegant  Bible — to 
keep  and  have  it  all  for  my  own,  always — it's  all 
owing  to  right  bringing  up!  That  is  what  you  will 
say,  Thomas — and  you  wouldn't  take  any  money 
for  those  two  thousand  verses — no  indeed  you 
wouldn't.  And  now  you  wouldn't  mind  telling  me 
and  this  lady  some  of  the  things  you've  learned — 
no,  I  know  you  wouldn't — for  we  are  proud  of  little 
boys  that  learn.  Now,  no  doubt  you  know  the 
names  of  all  the  twelve  disciples.  Won't  you 
tell  us  the  names  of  the  first  two  that  were  ap 
pointed?" 

Tom  was  tugging  at  a  button-hole  and  looking 
sheepish.  He  blushed,  now,  and  his  eyes  fell.  Mr. 
Walters 's  heart  sank  within  him.  He  said  to  himself, 
it  is  not  possible  that  the  boy  can  answer  the  sim 
plest  question — why  did  the  Judge  ask  him?  Yet 
he  felt  obliged  to  speak  up  and  say: 

"Answer  the  gentleman,  Thomas  — don't  be 
afraid." 

Tom  still  hung  fire. 

41 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Now  I  know  you'll  tell  me"  said  the  lady. 
"The  names  of  the  first  two  disciples  were — " 

"DAVID  AND  GOLIATH!" 

Let  us  draw  the  curtain  of  charity  over  the  rest  of 
the  scene. 


CHAPTER  V 

ABOUT  half  past  ten  the  cracked  bell  of  the  small 
/"\  church  began  to  ring,  and  presently  the  people 
began  to  gather  for  the  morning  sermon.  The 
Sunday-school  children  distributed  themselves  about 
the  house  and  occupied  pews  with  their  parents,  so 
as  to  be  under  supervision.  Aunt  Polly  came,  and 
Tom  and  Sid  and  Mary  sat  with  her — Tom  being 
placed  next  the  aisle,  in  order  that  he  might  be  as 
far  away  from  the  open  window  and  the  seductive 
outside  summer  scenes  as  possible.  The  crowd  filed 
up  the  aisles:  the  aged  and  needy  postmaster,  who 
had  seen  better  days;  the  mayor  and  his  wife — for 
they  had  a  mayor  there,  among  other  unnecessaries ; 
the  justice  of  the  peace;  the  widow  Douglas,  fair, 
smart,  and  forty,  a  generous,  good-hearted  soul  and 
weli-to-do,  her  hill  mansion  the  only  palace  in  the 
town,  and  the  most  hospitable  and  much  the  most 
lavish  in  the  matter  of  festivities  that  St.  Petersburg 
could  boast;  the  bent  and  venerable  Major  and 
Mrs.  Ward;  lawyer  Riverson,  the  new  notable  from 
a  distance;  next  the  belle  of  the  village,  followed  by 
a  troop  of  lawn-clad  and  ribbon-decked  young  heart- 
breakers;  then  all  the  young  clerks  in  town  in  a 
body — for  they  had  stood  in  the  vestibule  sucking 
their  cane-heads,  a  circling  wall  of  oiled  and  simper 
ing  admirers,  till  the  last  girl  had  run  their  gantlet; 

43 


MARK    TWAIN 

and  last  of  all  came  the  Model  Boy,  Willie  Muffer- 
son,  taking  as  heedful  care  of  his  mother  as  if  she 
were  cut  glass.  He  always  brought  his  mother  to 
church,  and  was  the  pride  of  all  the  matrons.  The 
boys  all  hated  him,  he  was  so  good.  And  besides, 
he  had  been  " thrown  up  to  them"  so  much.  His 
white  handkerchief  was  hanging  out  of  his  pocket 
behind,  as  usual  on  Sundays — accidentally.  Tom 
had  no  handkerchief,  and  he  looked  upon  boys  who 
had,  as  snobs. 

The  congregation  being  fully  assembled,  now,  the 
bell  rang  once  more,  to  warn  laggards  and  stragglers, 
and  then  a  solemn  hush  fell  upon  the  church  which 
was  only  broken  by  the  tittering  and  whispering  of 
the  choir  in  the  gallery.  The  choir  always  tittered 
and  whispered  all  through  service.  There  was  once 
a  church  choir  that  was  not  ill-bred,  but  I  have  for 
gotten  where  it  was,  now.  It  was  a  great  many 
years  ago,  and  I  can  scarcely  remember  anything 
about  it,  but  I  think  it  was  in  some  foreign  country. 

The  minister  gave  out  the  hymn,  and  read  it 
through  with  a  relish,  in  a  peculiar  style  which  was 
much  admired  in  that  part  of  the  country.  His 
voice  began  on  a  medium  key  and  climbed  steadily 
up  till  it  reached  a  certain  point,  where  it  bore  with 
strong  emphasis  upon  the  topmost  word  and  then 
plunged  down  as  if  from  a  spring-board: 

Shall  I  be  car-ri-ed  toe  the  skies,  on  Eow'ry  beds 

of  ease, 

W^tothersfighttowinthepn.e.andsaUthro'^, 

44 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 


He  was  regarded  as  a  wonderful  reader.  At  church 
"sociables"  he  was  always  called  upon  to  read 
poetry;  and  when  he  was  through,  the  ladies  would 
lift  up  their  hands  and  let  them  fall  helplessly  in  their 
laps,  and  "wall'*  their  eyes,  and  shake  their  heads, 
as  much  as  to  say,  "Words  cannot  express  it;  it  is 
too  beautiful,  too  beautiful  for  this  mortal  earth." 

After  the  hymn  had  been  sung,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Sprague  turned  himself  into  a  bulletin-board,  and 
read  off  "notices"  of  meetings  and  societies  and 
things  till  it  seemed  that  the  list  would  stretch  out  to 
the  crack  of  doom — a  queer  custom  which  is  still 
kept  up  in  America,  even  in  cities,  away  here  in  this 
age  of  abundant  newspapers.  Often,  the  less  there 
is  to  justify  a  traditional  custom,  the  harder  it  is  to 
get  rid  of  it. 

And  now  the  minister  prayed.  A  good,  generous 
prayer  it  was,  and  went  into  details:  it  pleaded  for 
the  church,  and  the  little  children  of  the  church;  for 
the  other  churches  of  the  village;  for  the  village 
itself;  for  the  county;  for  the  state;  for  the  state 
officers;  for  the  United  States;  for  the  churches  of 
the  United  States;  for  Congress;  for  the  President; 
for  the  officers  of  the  government;  for  poor  sailors, 
tossed  by  stormy  seas;  for  the  oppressed  millions 
groaning  under  the  heel  of  European  monarchies 
and  Oriental  despotisms;  for  such  as  have  the  light 
and  the  good  tidings,  and  yet  have  not  eyes  to  see 
nor  ears  to  hear  withal;  for  the  heathen  in  the  far 
islands  of  the  sea;  and  closed  with  a  supplication 
that  the  words  he  was  about  to  speak  might  find 
grace  and  favor,  and  be  as  seed  sown  in  fertile 

45 


MARK    TWAIN 

ground,  yielding  in  time  a  grateful  harvest  of  good. 
Amen. 

There  was  a  rustling  of  dresses,  and  the  standing 
congregation  sat  down.  The  boy  whose  history  this 
book  relates  did  not  enjoy  the  prayer,  he  only  en 
dured  it — if  he  even  did  that  much.  He  was  restive 
all  through  it;  he  kept  tally  of  the  details  of  the 
prayer,  unconsciously — for  he  was  not  listening,  but 
he  knew  the  ground  of  old,  and  the  clergyman's 
regular  route  over  it — and  when  a  little  trifle  of 
new  matter  was  interlarded,  his  ear  detected  it  and 
his  whole  nature  resented  it ;  he  considered  additions 
unfair,  and  scoundrelly.  In  the  midst  of  the  prayer 
a  fly  had  lit  on  the  back  of  the  pew  in  front  of  him 
and  tortured  his  spirit  by  calmly  rubbing  its  hands 
together,  embracing  its  head  with  its  arms,  and 
polishing  it  so  vigorously  that  it  seemed  to  almost 
part  company  with  the  body,  and  the  slender  thread 
of  a  neck  was  exposed  to  view;  scraping  its  wings 
with  its  hind  legs  and  smoothing  them  to  its  body 
as  if  they  had  been  coat-tails;  going  through  its 
whole  toilet  as  tranquilly  as  if  it  knew  it  was  per 
fectly  safe.  As  indeed  it  was ;  for  as  sorely  as  Tom's 
hands  itched  to  grab  for  it  they  did  not  dare — he 
believed  his  soul  would  be  instantly  destroyed  if  he 
did  such  a  thing  while  the  prayer  was  going  on. 
But  with  the  closing  sentence  his  hand  began  to 
curve  and  steal  forward ;  and  the  instant  the  ' '  Amen  " 
was  out  the  fly  was  a  prisoner  of  war.  His  aunt 
detected  the  act  and  made  him  let  it  go. 

The  minister  gave  out  his  text  and  droned  along 
monotonously  through  an  argument  that  was  so 

46 


ADVENTURES    OP    TOM    SAWYER 

prosy  that  many  a  head  by  and  by  began  to  nod — 
and  yet  it  was  an  argument  that  dealt  in  limitless 
fire  and  brimstone  and  thinned  the  predestined 
elect  down  to  a  company  so  small  as  to  be  hardly 
worth  the  saving.  Tom  counted  the  pages  of  the 
sermon;  after  church  he  always  knew  how  many 
pages  there  had  been,  but  he  seldom  knew  anything 
else  about  the  discourse.  However,  this  time  he  was 
really  interested  for  a  little  while.  The  minister 
made  a  grand  and  moving  picture  of  the  assembling 
together  of  the  world's  hosts  at  the  millennium 
when  the  lion  and  the  lamb  should  lie  down  together 
and  a  little  child  should  lead  them.  But  the  pathos, 
the  lesson,  the  moral  of  the  great  spectacle  were 
lost  upon  the  boy;  he  only  thought  of  the  con- 
spicuousness  of  the  principal  character  before  the 
onlooking  nations;  his  face  lit  with  the  thought, 
and  he  said  to  himself  that  he  wished  he  could  be 
that  child,  if  it  was  a  tame  lion. 

Now  he  lapsed  into  suffering  again,  as  the  dry 
argument  was  resumed.  Presently  he  bethought 
him  of  a  treasure  he  had  and  got  it  out.  It  was  a 
large  black  beetle  with  formidable  jaws — a  ''pinch- 
bug,"  he  called  it.  It  was  in  a  percussion-cap  box. 
The  first  thing  the  beetle  did  was  to  take  him  by 
the  finger.  A  natural  fillip  followed,  the  beetle  went 
floundering  into  the  aisle  and  lit  on  its  back,  and  the 
hurt  finger  went  into  the  boy's  mouth.  The  beetle 
lay  there  working  its  helpless  legs,  unable  to  turn 
over.  Tom  eyed  it,  and  longed  for  it;  but  it  was 
safe  out  of  his  reach.  Other  people  uninterested  in 
the  sermon,  found  relief  in  the  beetle,  and  they  eyed 

47 


MARK    TWAIN 

it  too.  Presently  a  vagrant  poodle-dog  came  idling 
along,  sad  at  heart,  lazy  with  the  summer  softness 
and  the  quiet,  weary  of  captivity,  sighing  for  change. 
He  spied  the  beetle;  the  drooping  tail  lifted  and 
wagged.  He  surveyed  the  prize;  walked  around  it; 
smelt  at  it  from  a  safe  distance;  walked  around  it 
again;  grew  bolder,  and  took  a  closer  smell;  then 
lifted  his  lip  and  made  a  gingerly  snatch  at  it,  just 
missing  it;  made  another,  and  another;  began  to 
enjoy  the  diversion;  subsided  to  his  stomach  with 
the  beetle  between  his  paws,  and  continued  his 
experiments;  grew  weary  at  last,  and  then  indifferent 
and  absent-minded.  His  head  nodded,  and  little  by 
little  his  chin  descended  and  touched  the  enemy, 
who  seized  it.  There  was  a  sharp  yelp,  a  flirt  of 
the  rjoodle/s  head,  and  the  beetle  fell  a  couple  of 
yards  away,  and  lit  on  its  back  once  more.  The 
neighboring  spectators  shook  with  a  gentle  inward 
joy,  several  faces  went  behind  fans  and  handker 
chiefs,  and  Tom  was  entirely  happy.  The  dog 
looked  foolish,  and  probably  felt  so;  but  there  was 
resentment  in  his  heart,  too,  and  a  craving  for 
revenge.  So  he  went  to  the  beetle  and  began  a 
wary  attack  on  it  again;  jumping  at  it  from  every 
point  of  a  circle,  lighting  with  his  fore  paws  within 
an  inch  of  the  creature,  making  even  closer  snatches 
at  it  with  his  teeth,  and  jerking  his  head  till  his 
ears  flapped  again.  But  he  grew  tired  once  more, 
after  a  while;  tried  to  amuse  himself  with  a  fly  but 
found  no  relief;  followed  an  ant  around,  with  his 
nose  close  to  the  floor,  and  quickly  wearied  of  that; 
yawned,  sighed,  forgot  the  beetle  entirely,  and  sat 

48 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

down  on  it.  Then  there  was  a  wild  yelp  of  agony 
and  the  poodle  went  sailing  up  the  aisle;  the  yelps 
continued,  and  so  did  the  dog;  he  crossed  the  house 
in  front  of  the  altar;  he  flew  down  the  other  aisle; 
he  crossed  before  the  doors;  he  clamored  up  the 
home-stretch;  his  anguish  grew  with  his  progress, 
till  presently  he  was  but  a  woolly  comet  moving 
in  its  orbit  with  the  gleam  and  the  speed  of  light. 
At  last  the  frantic  sufferer  sheered  from  its  course, 
and  sprang  into  its  master's  lap;  he  flung  it  out 
of  the  window,  and  the  voice  of  distress  quickly 
thinned  away  and  died  in  the  distance. 

By  this  time  the  whole  church  was  red-faced  and 
suffocating  with  suppressed  laughter,  and  the  sermon 
had  come  to  a  dead  standstill.  The  discourse  was 
resumed  presently,  but  it  went  lame  and  halting,  all 
possibility  of  impressiveness  being  at  an  end;  for  even 
the  gravest  sentiments  were  constantly  being  received 
with  a  smothered  burst  of  unholy  mirth,  under  cover 
of  some  remote  pew-back,  as  if  the  poor  parson  had 
said  a  rarely  facetious  thing.  It  was  a  genuine  relief 
to  the  whole  congregation  when  the  ordeal  was  over 
and  the  benediction  pronounced. 

Tom  Sawyer  went  home  quite  cheerful,  thinking 
to  himself  that  there  was  some  satisfaction  about 
divine  service  when  there  was  a  bit  of  variety  in  it. 
He  had  but  one  marring  thought;  he  was  willing 
that  the  dog  should  play  with  his  pinchbug,  but  he 
did  not  think  it  was  upright  in  him  to  carry  it  off. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  K  ONDAY  morning  found  Tom  Sawyer  miserable. 
1 V 1  Monday  morning  always  found  him  so — be 
cause  it  began  another  week's  slow  suffering  in 
school.  He  generally  began  that  day  with  wishing 
he  had  had  no  intervening  holiday,  it  made  the  going 
into  captivity  and  fetters  again  so  much  more  odious. 
Tom  lay  thinking.  Presently  it  occurred  to  him 
that  he  wished  he  was  sick;  then  he  could  stay 
home  from  school.  Here  was  a  vague  possibility. 
He  canvassed  his  system.  No  ailment  was  found, 
and  he  investigated  again.  This  time  he  thought  he 
could  detect  colicky  symptoms,  and  he  began  to  en 
courage  them  with  considerable  hope.  But  they 
soon  grew  feeble,  and  presently  died  wholly  away. 
He  reflected  further.  Suddenly  he  discovered  some 
thing.  One  of  his  upper  front  teeth  was  loose. 
This  was  lucky;  he  was  about  to  begin  to  groan,  as 
a  "starter,"  as  he  called  it,  when  it  occurred  to 
him  that  if  he  came  into  court  with  that  argument, 
his  aunt  would  pull  it  out,  and  that  would  hurt.  So 
he  thought  he  would  hold  the  tooth  in  reserve  for 
the  present,  and  seek  further.  Nothing  offered  for 
some  little  time,  and  then  he  remembered  hearing  the 
doctor  tell  about  a  certain  thing  that  laid  up  a 
patient  for  two  or  three  weeks  and  threatened  to 

5° 


ADVENTURES    OF     TOM     SAWYER 

make  him  lose  a  finger.  So  the  boy  eagerly  drew  his 
sore  toe  from  under  the  sheet  and  held  it  up  for 
inspection.'  But  now  he  did  not  know  the  necessary 
symptoms.  However,  it  seemed  well  worth  while  to 
chance  it,  so  he  fell  to  groaning  with  considerable 
spirit. 

But  Sid  slept  on  unconscious. 

Tom  groaned  louder,  and  fancied  that  he  began 
to  feel  pain  in  the  toe. 

No  result  from  Sid. 

Tom  was  panting  with  his  exertions  by  this  time. 
He  took  a  rest  and  then  swelled  himself  up  and 
fetched  a  succession  of  admirable  groans. 

Sid  snored  on. 

Tom  was  aggravated.  He  said,  "Sid,  Sid!" 
and  shook  him.  This  course  worked  well,  a/nd  Tom 
began  to  groan  again.  Sid  yawned,  stretched,  then 
brought  himself  up  on  his  elbow  with  a  snort,  and 
began  to  stare  at  Tom.  Tom  went  on  groaning. 
Sid  said: 

"Tom!  Say,  Tom!"'  [No  response.]  "Here, 
Tom!  Tom!  What  is  the  matter,  Tom?"  And 
he  shook  him  and  looked  in  his  face  anxiously.  • 

Tom  moaned  out: 

"Oh,  don't,  Sid.     Don't  joggle  me."  ' 

"Why,  what's  the  matter,  Tom?  Imust  callauntie." 

"No — never  mind.  It  '11  be  over  by  and  by, 
maybe.  Don't  call  anybody." 

"But  I  must!  Don't  groan  so,  Tom,  it's  awful. 
How  long  you  been  this  way?" 

"Hours.  Ouch!  Oh,  don't  .stir  so,  Sid,  you'll 
kill  me." 

5' 


MARK     TWAIN 

"Tom,  why  didn't  you  wake  me  sooner?  Oh, 
Tom,  don't!  It  makes  my  flesh  crawl  to  hear  you. 
Tom,  what  is  the  matter?'' 

"I  forgive  you  everything,  Sid.  [Groan.]  Every 
thing  you've  ever  done  to  me.  When  I'm  gone — " 

"Oh,  Tom,  you  ain't  dying,  are  you?  Don't, 
Tom— oh,  don't.  Maybe—" 

"P  forgive  everybody,  Sid.  [Groan.]  Tell  'em 
so,  Sid.  And  Sid,  you  give  my  window-sash  and 
my  cat  with  one  eye  to  that  new  girl  that's  come  to 
town,  and  tell  her — " 

But  Sid  had  snatched  his  clothes  and  gone.  Tom 
was>suflering  in  reality,  now,  so  handsomely  was  his 
imagination  working,  and  so  his  groans  had  gathered 
quite  a  genuine  tone. 

Sid  flew  down-stairs  and  said: 

' '  Oh,  Aunt  Polly ,  come !    Tom's  dying !' ' 

"Dying!" 

"Yes'm.     Don't  wait — come  quick!" 

"Rubbage!    I  don't  believe  it!" 

But  she  fled  up-stairs,  nevertheless,  with  Sid  and 
Mary  at  her  heels.  And  her  face  grew  white,  too, 
and  her  lip  trembled.  When  she  reached  the  bed 
side  she  gasped  out: 

"You,  Tom!  Tom,  what's  the  matter  with  you?" 

"Oh,  auntie,  I'm—" 

"What's  the  matter  with  you — what  is  the  matter 
with  you,  child?" 

"Oh,  auntie,  my  sore  toe's  mortified!" 

The  old  lady  sank  down  into  a  chair  and  laughed 
a  little,  then  cried  a  little,  then  did  both  together. 
This  restored  her  and  she  said : 


ADVENTURES    OF     TOM     SAWYER 

"Tom,  what  a  turn  you  did  give  me.  Now  you 
shut  up  that  nonsense  and  climb  out  of  this." 

The  groans  ceased  and  the  pain  vanished  from  the 
toe.  The  boy  felt  a  little  foolish,  and  he  said: 

"Aunt  Polly,  it  seemed  mortified,  and  it  hurt  so  I 
never  minded  my  tooth  at  all." 

"Your  tooth,  indeed!  What's  the' matter  with 
your  tooth?" 

"One  of  them's  loose,  and  it  aches  perfectly 
awful." 

"There,  there,  now,  don't  begin  that  groaning 
again.  Open  your  mouth.  Well — your  tooth  is 
loose,  but  you're  not  going  to  die  about  that.  Mary, 
get  me  a  silk  thread,  and  a  chunk  of  fire  out  of  the 
kitchen." 

Tom  said : 

"Oh,  please  auntie,  don't  pull  it  out.  It  don't 
hurt  any  more.  I  wish  I  may  never  stir  if  it  does. 
Please  don't,  auntie.  I  don't  want  to  stay  home 
from  school." 

"Oh,  you  don't,  don't  you?  So  all  this  row  was 
because  you  thought  you'd  get  to  stay  home  from 
school  and  go  a-fishing?  Tom,  Tom,  I  love  you 
so,  and  you  seem  to  try  every  way  you  can  to  break 
my  old  heart  with  your  outrageousness."  By  this 
time  the  dental  instruments  were  ready.  The  old 
lady  made  one  end  of  the  silk  thread  fast  to  Tom's 
tooth  with  a  loop  and  tied  the  other  to  the  bedpost. 
Then  she  seized  the  chunk  of  fire  and  suddenly 
thrust  it  almost  into  the  boy's  face.  The  tooth 
hung  dangling  by  the  bedpost,  now. 

But  all  trials  bring  their  compensations^    As  Tom 

5  53 


MARK     TWAIN 

wended  to  school  after  breakfast,  he  was  the  envy  of 
every  boy  he  met  because  the  gap  in  his  upper  row 
of  teeth  enabled  him  to  expectorate  in  a  new  and 
admirable  way.  He  gathered  quite  a  following  of 
lads  interested  in  the  exhibition;  and  one  that  had 
cut  his  finger  and  had  been  a  center  of  fascination 
and  homage  up  to  this  time,  now  found  himself  sud 
denly  without  an  adherent,  and  shorn  of  his  glory. 
His  heart  was  heavy,  and  he  said  with  a  disdain 
which  he  did  not  feel,  that  it  wasn't  anything  to  spit 
like  Tom  Sawyer;  but  another  boy  said  "Sour 
grapes!"  and  he  wandered  away  a  dismantled 
hero. 

Shortly  Tom  came  upon  the  juvenile  pariah  of 
the  village,  Huckleberry  Finn,  son  of  the  town 
drunkard.  Huckleberry  was  cordially  hated  and 
dreaded  by  all  the  mothers  of  the  town,  because  he 
was  idle  and  lawless  and  vulgar  and  bad — and 
because  all  their  children  admired  him  so,  and  de 
lighted  in  his  forbidden  society,  and  wished  they 
dared  to  be  like  him.  Tom  was  like  the  rest  of  the 
respectable  boys,  in  that  he  envied  Huckleberry  his 
gaudy  outcast  condition,  and  was  under  strict  orders 
not  to  play  with  him.  So  he  played  with  him  every 
time  he  got  a  chance.  Huckleberry  was  always 
dressed  in  the  cast-off  clothes  of  full-grown  men, 
and  they  were  in  perennial  bloom  and  fluttering  with 
rags.  His  hat  was  a  vast  ruin  with  a  wide  crescent 
lopped  out  of  its  brim;  his  coat,  when  he  wore  one, 
hung  nearly  to  his  heels  and  had  the  rearward  but 
tons  far  down  the  back;  but  one  suspender  sup 
ported  his  trousers;  the  seat  of  the  trousers  bagged 

54 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

low  and  contained  nothing;  the  fringed  legs  dragged   V 
in  the  dirt  when  not  rolled  up. 

Huckleberry  came  and  went,  at  his  own  free  will. 
He  slept  on  doorsteps  in  fine  weather  and  in  empty 
hogsheads  in  wet;  he  did  not  have  to  go  to  school 
or  to  church,  or  call  any  being  master  or  obey  any 
body;  he  could  go  fishing  or  swimming  when  and 
where  he  chose,  and  stay  as  long  as  it  suited  him; 
nobody  forbade  him  to  fight;  he  could  sit  up  as 
late  as  he  pleased;  he  was  always  the  first  boy 
that  went  barefoot  in  the  spring  and  the  last  to 
resume  leather  in  the  fall;  he  never  had  to  wash, 
nor  put  on  clean  clothes;  he  could  swear  wonder 
fully.  In  a  word,  everything  that  goes  to  make 
life  precious,  that  boy  had.  So  thought  every  har 
assed,  hampered,  respectable  boy  in  St.  Peters 
burg. 

Tom  hailed  the  romantic  outcast : 

"Hello,  Huckleberry!" 

" Hello  yourself,  and  see  how  you  like  it." 

"What's  that  you  got?" 

"Dead  cat." 

"Lemme  see  him,  Huck.  My,  he's  pretty  stiff. 
Where'd  you  get  him?" 

"Bought  him  off'n  a  boy." 

"What  did  you  give?" 

"I  give  a  blue  ticket  and  a  bladder  that  I  got  at 
the  slaughter-house." 

"Where'd  you  get  the  blue  ticket?" 

"Bought  it  off'n  Ben  Rogers  two  weeks  ago  for  a 
hoop-stick." 

"Say — what  is  dead  cats  good  for,  Huck?" 

55 


MARK    TWAIN 

" Good  for?    Cure  warts  with." 

"No!  Is  that  so?  I  know  something  that's 
better." 

"I  bet  you  don't.     What  is  it?" 

"Why,  spunk- water." 

' '  Spunk-water !  I  wouldn't  give  a  dern  for  spunk- 
water." 

"You  wouldn't,  wouldn't  you?  D'you  ever  try 
it?" 

"No,  I  hain't.     But  Bob  Tanner  did." 

"Who  told  you  so?" 

"Why,  he  told  Jeff  Thatcher,  and  Jeff  told  Johnny 
Baker,  and  Johnny  told  Jim  Hollis,  and  Jim  told 
Ben  Rogers,  and  Ben  told  a  nigger,  and  the  nigger 
told  me.  There  now!" 

"Well,  what  of  it?  They'll  all  lie.  Leastways 
all  but  the  nigger.  I  don't  know  him.  But  I  never 
see  a  nigger  that  wouldn't  lie.  Shucks!  Now  you 
tell  me  how  Bob  Tanner  done  it,  Huck." 

"Why,  he  took  and  dipped  his  hand  in  a  rotten 
stump  where  the  rain-water  was." 

"In  the  daytime?" 

"Certainly." 

"With  his  face  to  the  stump?" 

"Yes.     Least  I  reckon  so." 

"Did  he  say  anything?" 

"I  don't  reckon  he  did.     I  don't  know." 

"Aha!  Talk  about  trying  to  cure  warts  with 
spunk-water  such  a  blame-fool  way  as  that!  Why, 
that  ain't  a-going  to  do  any  good.  You  got  to  go 
all  by  yourself,  to  the  middle  of  the  woods,  where 
you  know  there's  a  spunk-water  stump,  and  just  as 

56 


ADVENTURES    OP     TOM    SAWYER 

it's  midnight  you  back  up  against  the  stump  and 
jam  your  hand  in  and  say: 

'Barley-corn,  Barley-corn,  injun-meal  shorts, 
Spunk-water,  spunk-water,  s waller  these  warts/ 

and  then  walk  away  quick,  eleven  steps,  with  your 
eyes  shut,  and  then  turn  around  three  times  and 
walk  home  without  speaking  to  anybody.  Because 
if  you  speak  the  charm's  busted." 

"Well,  that  sounds  like  a  good  way;  but  that 
ain't  the  way  Bob  Tanner  done." 

"No,  sir,  you  can  bet  he  didn't,  becuz  he's  the 
wartiest  boy  in  this  town;  and  he  wouldn't  have  a 
wart  on  him  if  he'd  knowed  how  to  work  spunk- 
water.  I've  took  off  thousands  of  warts  off  of  my 
hands  that  way,  Huck.  I  play  with  frogs  so  much 
that  I've  always  got  considerable  many  warts. 
Sometimes  I  take  'em  off  with  a  bean." 

"Yes,  bean's  good.     I've  done  that." 

' ' Have  you ?    What's  your  way  ?' f 

"You  take  and  split  the  bean,  and  cut  the  wart 
so  as  to  get  some  blood,  and  then  you  put  the  blood 
on  one  piece  of  the  bean  and  take  and  dig  a  hole 
and  bury  it  'bout  midnight  at  the  crossroads  in  the 
dark  of  the  moon,  and  then  you  burn  up  the  rest 
of  the  bean.  You  see  that  piece  that's  got  the  blood 
on  it  will  keep  drawing  and  drawing,  trying  to 
fetch  the  other  piece  to  it,  and  so  that  helps  the 
blood  to  draw  the  wart,  and  pretty  soon  off  she 


comes." 


"Yes,   that's  it,  Huck— that's  it;  though  when 
you're  burying  it  if  you  say  'Down  bean;  off  wart; 

57 


MARK    TWAIN 

come  no  more  to  bother  me!'  it's  better.  That's 
the  way  Joe  Harper  does,  and  he's  been  nearly  to 
Coonville  and  most  everywheres.  But  say — how 
do  you  cure  'em  with  dead  cats?" 

"Why,  you  take  your  cat  and  go  and  get  in  the 
graveyard  long  about  midnight  when  somebody 
that  was  wicked  has  been  buried;  and  when  it's 
midnight  a  devil  will  come,  or  maybe  two  or  three, 
but  you  can't  see  'em,  you  can  only  hear  something 
like  the  wind,  or  maybe  hear  'em  talk;  and  when 
they're  taking  that  feller  away,  you  heave  your  cat 
after  'em  and  say,  'Devil  follow  corpse,  cat  follow 
devil,  warts  follow  cat,  I'm  done  with  ye ! '  That  '11 
fetch  any  wart." 

"Sounds  right.     D'you  ever  try  it,  Huck?" 

"No,  but  old  Mother  Hopkins  told  me." 

"Well,  I  reckon  it's  so,  then.  Becuz  they  say 
she's  a  witch." 

"Say!  Why,  Tom,  I  know  she  is.  She  witched 
pap.  Pap  says  so  his  own  self.  He  come  along 
one  day,  and  he  see  she  was  a-witching  him,  so  he 
took  up  a  rock,  and  if  she  hadn't  dodged,  he'd  'a' 
got  her.  Well,  that  very  night  he  rolled  off 'n  a  shed 
wher'  he  was  a-layin'  drunk,  and  broke  his  arm." 

"Why,  that's  awful.  How  did  he  know  she  was 
a-witching  him?" 

"Lord,  pap  can  tell,  easy.  Pap  says  when  they 
keep  looking  at  you  right  stiddy,  they're  a-witching 
you.  Specially  if  they  mumble.  Becuz  when  they 
mumble  they're  saying  the  Lord's  Prayer  back- 
ards." 

"Say,  Hucky,  when  you  going  to  try  the  cat?" 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"To-night.  I  reckon  they'll  come  after  old  Hoss 
Williams  to-night." 

"But  they  buried  him  Saturday.  Didn't  they  get 
him  Saturday  night?" 

"Why,  how  you  talk!  How  could  their  charms 
work  till  midnight? — and  then  it's  Sunday.  Devils 
don't  slosh  around  much  of  a  Sunday,  I  don't 
reckon." 

"I  never  thought  of  that.  That's  so.  Lemme 
go  with  you?" 

"Of  course — if  you  ain't  afeard." 

"Afeard!     'Tain't  likely.     Will  you  meow?" 

"Yes — and  you  meow  back,  if  you  get  a  chance. 
Last  time,  you  kep'  me  a-meowing  around  till  old 
Hays  went  to  throwing  rocks  at  me  and  says  'Dern 
that  cat !'  and  so  I  hove  a  brick  through  his  window 
—but  don't  you  tell." 

"I  won't.  I  couldn't  meow  that  night,  becuz 
auntie  was  watching  me,  but  I'll  meow  this  time. 
Say— what's  that?" 

"Nothing  but  a  tick." 

"Where'd  you  get  him?" 

"Out  in  the  woods." 

"What  '11  you  take  for  him?" 

"I  don't  know.     I  don't  want  to  sell  him." 

"All  right.     It's  a  mighty  small  tick,  anyway!" 

"Oh,  anybody  can  run  a  tick  down  that  don't 
belong  to  them.  I'm  satisfied  with  it.  It's  a  good 
enough  tick  for  me." 

"Sho,  there's  ticks  a-plenty.  I  could  have  a 
thousand  of  'em  if  I  wanted  to." 

"Well,  why  don't  you?  Becuz  you  know  mighty 

59 


MARK    TWAIN 

well  you  can't.  This  is  a  pretty  early  tick,  I  reckon. 
It's  the  first  one  I've  seen  this  year." 

"Say,  Huck — I'll  give  you  my  tooth  for  him." 

"Less  see  it." 

Tom  got  out  a  bit  of  paper  and  carefully  unrolled 
it.  Huckleberry  viewed  it  wistfully.  The  tempta 
tion  was  very  strong.  At  last  he  said: 

"Is  it  genuwyne?" 

Tom  lifted  his  lip  and  showed  the  vacancy. 

"Well,  all  right,"  said  Huckleberry,  "it's  a 
trade." 

Tom  inclosed  the  tick  in  the  percussion-cap  box 
that  had  lately  been  the  pinchbug's  prison,  and  the 
boys  separated,  each  feeling  wealthier  than  before. 

When  Tom  reached  the  little  isolated  frame 
schoolhouse,  he  strode  in  briskly,  with  the  manner 
of  one  who  had  come  with  all  honest  speed.  He 
hung  his  hat  on  a  peg  and  flung  himself  into  his  seat 
with  businesslike  alacrity.  The  master,  throned  on 
high  in  his  great  splint-bottom  arm-chair,  was 
dozing,  lulled  by  the  drowsy  hum  of  study.  The 
interruption  roused  him. 

"Thomas  Sawyer!" 

Tom  knew  that  when  his  name  was  pronounced  in 
full,  it  meant  trouble. 

"Sir!" 

"Come  up  here.  Now,  sir,  why  are  you  late 
again,  as  usual?" 

Tom  was  about  to  take  refuge  in  a  lie,  when  he 
saw  two  long  tails  of  yellow  hair  hanging  down  a 
back  that  he  recognized  by  the  electric  sympathy  of 
love;  and  by  that  form  was  the  only  vacant  place  on 

60 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

the  girls'  side  of  the  schoolhouse.    He  instantly 
said: 

"I  STOPPED  TO  TALK  WITH  HUCKLEBERRY  FlNN!" 

1  The  master's  pulse  stood  still,  and  he  stared  help- 
I  lessly.  The  buzz  of  study  ceased.  The  pupils 
wondered  if  this  foolhardy  boy  had  lost  his  mind.. 
The  master  said: 

"You— you  did  what?" 

"Stopped  to  talk  with  Huckleberry  Finn." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  words. 

"Thomas  Sawyer,  this  is  the  most  astounding 
confession  I  have  ever  listened  to.  No  mere  ferule 
will  answer  for  this  offense.  Take  off  your  jacket." 

The  master's  arm  performed  until  it  was  tired  and 
the  stock  of  switches  notably  diminished.  Then  the 
order  followed: 

"Now,  sir,  go  and  sit  with  the  girls!  And  let 
this  be  a  warning  to  you." 

The  titter  that  rippled  around  the  room  appeared 
to  abash  the  boy,  but  in  reality  that  result  was  caused 
rather  more  by  his  worshipful  awe  of  his  unknown 
idol  and  the  dread  pleasure  that  lay  in  his  high 
good  fortune.  He  sat  down  upon  the  end  of  the 
pine  bench  and  the  girl  hitched  herself  away  from 
him  with  a  toss  of  her  head.  Nudges  and  winks 
and  whispers  traversed  the  room,  but  Tom  sat  still, 
with  his  arms  upon  the  long,  low  desk  before  him, 
and  seemed  to  study  his  book. 

By  and  by  attention  ceased  from  him,  and  the 
accustomed  school  murmur  rose  upon  the  dull  air 
once  more.  Presently  the  boy  began  to  steal  furtive 
glances  at  the  girl.  She  observed  it,  ''made  a 

61 


MARK     TWAIN 

mouth"  at  him  and  gave  him  the  back  of  her  head 
for  the  space  of  a  minute.  When  she  cautiously 
faced  around  again,  a  peach  lay  before  her.  She 
thrust  it  away.  Tom  gently  put  it  back.  She  thrust 
it  away  again,  but  with  less  animosity.  Tom 
patiently  returned  it  to  its  place.  Then  she  let  it 
remain.  Tom  scrawled  on  his  slate,  "Please  take 
it — I  got  more."  The  girl  glanced  at  the  words, 
but  made  no  sign.  Now  the  boy  began  to  draw 
something  on  the  slate,  hiding  his  work  with  his  left 
hand.  For  a  time  the  girl  refused  to  notice;  but 
her  human  curiosity  presently  began  to  manifest 
itself  by  hardly  perceptible  signs.  The  boy  worked 
on,  apparently  unconscious.  The  girl  made  a  sort 
of  non-committal  attempt  to  see  it,  but  the  boy  did 
not.  betray  that  he  was  aware  of  it.  At  last  she 
gave  in  and  hesitatingly  whispered: 

"Let  me  see  it." 

Tom  partly  uncovered  a  dismal  caricature  of  a 
house  with  two  gable  ends  to  it  and  a  corkscrew  of 
smoke  issuing  from  the  chimney.  Then  the  girl's 
interest  began  to  fasten  itself  upon  the  work  and  she 
forgot  everything  else.  When  it  was  finished,  she 
gazed  a  moment,  then  whispered: 

"It's  nice — make  a  man." 

The  artist  erected  a  man  in  the  front  yard,  that 
resembled  a  derrick.  He  could  have  stepped  over 
the  house;  but  the  girl  was  not  hypercritical;  she 
was  satisfied  with  the  monster,  and  whispered : 

"It's  a  beautiful  man — now  make  me  coming 
along." 

Tom  drew  an  hour-glass  with  a  full  moon  and 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

straw  limbs  to  it  and  armed  the  spreading  fingers 
with  a  portentous  fan.     The  girl  said: 

"It's  ever  so  nice — I  wish  I  could  draw.'* 

"It's  easy/'  whispered  Tom,  "I'll  learn  you." 

"Oh,  will  you?    When?" 

"At  noon.     Do  you  go  home  to  dinner?" 

"I'll  stay  if  you  will." 

"Good — that's  a  whack.     What's  your  name?" 

"Becky  Thatcher.  What's  yours?  Oh,  I  know. 
It's  Thomas  Sawyer." 

"That's  the  name  they  lick  me  by.  I'm  Tom 
when  I'm  good.  You  call  me  Tom,  will  you?" 

"Yes." 

Now  Tom  began  to  scrawl  something  on  the  slate, 
hiding  the  words  from  the  girl.  But  she  was  not 
backward  this  time.  She  begged  to  see.  Tom  said : 

"Oh,  it  ain't  anything." 

"Yes  it  is." 

"No  it  ain't.     You  don't  want  to  see." 

"Yes  I  do,  indeed  I  do.     Please  let  me." 

"You'll  tell." 

"No  I  won't — deed  and  deed  and  double  deed  I 
won't." 

"You  won't  tell  anybody  at  all?  Ever,  as  long 
as  you  live?" 

"No,  I  won't  ever  tell  anybody.     Now  let  me." 

"Oh,  you  don't  want  to  see!" 

"Now  that  you  treat  me  so,  I  will  see."  And 
she  put  her  small  hand  upon  his  and  a  little  scuffle 
ensued,  Tom  pretending  to  resist  in  earnest  but  let 
ting  his  hand  slip  by  degrees  till  these  words  were 
revealed:  "I  love  you." 

63 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Oh,  you  bad  thing!"  And  she  hit  his  hand  a 
smart  rap,  but  reddened  and  looked  pleased,  never 
theless. 

Just  at  this  juncture  the  boy  felt  a  slow,  fateful 
grip  closing  on  his  ear,  and  a  steady  lifting  impulse. 
In  that  vise  he  was  borne  across  the  house  and  de 
posited  in  his  own  seat,  under  a  peppering  fire  of 
giggles  from  the  whole  school.  Then  the  master 
stood  over  him  during  a  few  awful  moments,  and 
finally  moved  away  to  his  throne  without  saying  a 
word.  But  although  Tom's  ear  tingled,  his  heart 
was  jubilant. 

As  the  school  quieted  down  Tom  made  an  honest 
effort  to  study,  but  the  turmoil  within  him  was  too 
great.  In  turn  he  took  his  place  in  the  reading 
class  and  made  a  botch  of  it ;  then  in  the  geography 
class  and  turned  lakes  into  mountains,  mountains 
into  rivers,  and  rivers  into  continents,  till  chaos  was 
come  again;  then  in  the  spelling  class,  and  got 
"turned  down,"  by  a  succession  of  mere  baby  words, 
till  he  brought  up  at  the  foot  and  yielded  up  the 
pewter  medal  which  he  had  worn  with  ostentation 
for  months. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  harder  Tom  tried  to  fasten  his  mind  on  his 
book,  the  more  his  ideas  wandered.  So  at 
last,  with  a  sigh  and  a  yawn,  he  gave  it  up.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  the  noon  recess  would  never 
come.  The  air  was  utterly  dead.  There  was  not  a 
breath  stirring.  It  was  the  sleepiest  of  sleepy  days. 
The  drowsing  murmur  of  the  five  and  twenty  study 
ing  scholars  soothed  the  soul  like  the  spell  that  is 
in  the  murmur  of  bees.  Away  off  in  the  flaming 
sunshine,  Cardiff  Hill  lifted  its  soft  green  sides 
through  a  shimmering  veil  of  heat,  tinted  with  the 
purple  of  distance;  a  few  birds  floated  on  lazy  wing 
high  in  the  air;  no  other  living  thing  was  visible  but 
some  cows,  and  they  were  asleep.  Tom's  heart 
ached  to  be  free,  or  else  to  have  something  of  inter 
est  to  do  to  pass  the  dreary  tirne.  His  hand  wan 
dered  into  his  pocket  and  his  .face  lit  up  with  a 
glow  of  gratitude  that  was  prayer,  though  he  did  not 
know  it.  Then  furtively  the  percussion-cap  box 
came  out.  He  released  the  tick  and  put  him  on  the 
long  flat  desk.  The  creature  probably  glowed  with 
a  gratitude  that  amounted  to  prayer,  too,  at  this 
moment,  but  it  was  premature:  for  when  he  started 
thankfully  to  travel  off,  Tom  turned  him  aside  with 
a  pin  and  made  him  take  a  new  direction. 

65 


MARK    TWAIN 

Tom's  bosom  friend  sat  next  him,  suffering  just 
as  Tom  had  been,  and  now  he  was  deeply  and  grate 
fully  interested  in  this  entertainment  in  an  instant. 
This  bosom  friend  was  Joe  Harper.  The  two  boys 
were  sworn  friends  all  the  week,  and  embattled 
enemies  on  Saturdays.  Joe  took  a  pin  out  of  his 
lapel  and  began  to  assist  in  exercising  the  prisoner. 
The  sport  grew  in  interest  momently.  Soon  Tom 
said  that  they  were  interfering  with  each  other,  and 
neither  getting  the  fullest  benefit  of  the  tick.  So  he 
put  Joe's  slate  on  the  desk  and  drew  a  line  down  the 
middle  of  it  from  top  to  bottom. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "as  long  as  he  is  on  your  side 
you  can  stir  him  up  and  I'll  let  him  alone;  but  if 
you  let  him  get  away  and  get  on  my  side,  you're  to 
leave  him  alone  as  long  as  I  can  keep  him  from 
crossing  over." 

"All  right,  go  ahead;  start  him  up." 

The  tick  escaped  from  Tom,  presently,  and  crossed 
the  equator.  Joe  harassed  him  awhile,  and  then  he 
got  away  and  crossed  back  again.  This  change  of 
base  occurred  often.  While  one  boy  was  worrying 
the  tick  with  absorbing  interest,  the  other  would 
look  on  with  interest  as  strong,  the  two  heads  bowed 
together  over  the  slate,  and  the  two  souls  dead  to  all 
things  else.  At  last  luck  seemed  to  settle  and  abide 
with  Joe.  The  tick  tried  this,  that,  and  the  other 
course,  and  got  as  excited  and  as  anxious  as  the  boys 
themselves,  but  time  and  again  just  as  he  would 
have  victory  in  his  very  grasp,  so  to  speak,  and  Tom's 
fingers  would  be  twitching  to  begin,  Joe's  pin  would 
deftly  head  him  off,  and  keep  .possession.  At  last 

66 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

Tom  could  stand  it  no  longer.  The  temptation  was 
too  strong.  So  he  reached  out  and  lent  a  hand  with 
his  pin.  Joe  was  angry  in  a  moment.  Said  he : 

;<Tom,  you  let  him  alone." 

"I  only  just  want  to  stir  him  up  a  little,  Joe." 

"No,  sir,  it  ain't  fair;   you  just  let  him  alone." 

"Blame  it,  I  ain't  going  to  stir  him  much." 

"Let  him  alone,  I  tell  you." 

"I  won't!" 

"You  shall — he's  on  my  side  of  the  line." 

"Look  here,  Joe  Harper,  whose  is  that  tick?" 

"I  don't  care  whose  tick  he  is — he's  on  my  side 
of  the  line,  and  you  sha'n't  touch  him." 

"Well,  I'll  just  bet  I  will,  though.  He's  my  tick 
and  I'll  do  what  I  blame  please  with  him,  or  die!" 

A  tremendous  whack  came  down  on  Tom's  shoul 
ders,  and  its  duplicate  on  Joe's;  and  for  the  space 
of  two  minutes  the  dust  continued  to  fly  from  the 
two  jackets  and  the  whole  school  to  enjoy  it.  The 
boys  had  been  too  absorbed  to  notice  the  hush  that 
had  stolen  upon  the  school  awhile  before  when  the 
master  came  tiptoeing  down  the  room  and  stood 
over  them.  He  had  contemplated  a  good  part  of 
the  performance  before  he  contributed  his  bit  of 
variety  to  it. 

When  school  broke  up  at  noon,  Tom  flew  to 
Becky  Thatcher,  and  whispered  in  her  ear: 

"Put  on  your  bonnet  and  let  on  you're  going 
home;  and  when  you  get  to  the  corner,  give  the 
rest  of  'em  the  slip,  and  turn  down  through  the  lane 
and  come  back.  I'll  go  the  other  way  and  come, 
it  over  'em  the  same  way." 

67 


MARK    TWAIN 

So  the  one  went  off  with  one  group  of  scholars, 
and  the  other  with  another.  In  a  little  while  the 
two  met  at  the  bottom  of  the  lane,  and  when  they 
reached  the  school  they  had  it  all  to  themselves. 
Then  they  sat  together,  with  a  slate  before  them, 
and  Tom  gave  Becky  the  pencil  and  held  her  hand 
in  his,  guiding  it,  and  so  created  another  surprising 
house.  When  the  interest  in  art  began  to  wane, 
the  two  fell  to  talking.  Tom  was  swimming  in  bliss. 
He  said: 

4 'Do  you  love  rats?" 

"No!    I  hate  them!" 

"Well,  I  do,  too — live  ones.  But  I  mean  dead 
ones,  to  swing  round  your  head  with  a  string." 

"No,  I  don't  care  for  rats  much,  anyway.  What 
/  like  is  chewing-gum." 

"Oh,  I  should  say  so.     I  wish  I  had  some  now." 

"Do  you?  I've  got  some.  I'll  let  you  chew  it 
awhile,  but  you  must  give  it  back  to  me." 

That  was  agreeable,  so  they  chewed  it  turn  about, 
and  dangled  their  legs  against  the  bench  in  excess 
of  contentment. 

"Was  you  ever  at  a  circus?"  said  Tom. 

"Yes,  and  my  pa's  going  to  take  me  again  some 
time,  if  I'm  good." 

"I  been  to  the  circus  three  or  four  times — lots  of 
times.  Church  ain't  shucks  to  a  circus.  There's 
things  going  on  at  a  circus  all  the  time.  I'm  going 
to  be  a  clown  in  a  circus  when  I  grow  up." 

"Oh,  are  you!  That  will  be  nice.  They're  so 
lovely,  all  spotted  up." 

"Yes,  that's  so.  And  they  get  slathers  of  money 

68 


I-LOVE-YOU!' 


ADVENTURES    OF     TOM     SAWYER 

— most  a  dollar  a  day,  Ben  Rogers  says.  Say, 
Becky,  was  you  ever  engaged?" 

"What's  that?" 

"Why,  engaged  to.be  married." 

"No." 

"Would  you  like  to?" 

"I  reckon  so.     I  don't  know.     What  is  it  like?" 

"Like?  Why  it  ain't  like  anything.  You  only 
just  tell  a  boy  you  won't  ever  have  anybody  but 
him,  ever  ever  ever,  and  then  you  kiss  and  that's 
all.  Anybody  can  do  it." 

1 '  Kiss  ?    What  do  you  kiss  f or  ?" 

"Why,  that,  you  know,  is  to — well,  they  always 
do  that." 

"Everybody?" 

"Why,  yes,  everybody  that's  in  love  with  each 
other.  Do  you  remember  what  I  wrote  on  the 
slate?" 

"Ye— yes." 

"What  was  it?" 

"I  sha'n't  tell  you." 

"Shall  I  tell  your 

"Ye — yes — but  some  other  time." 

"No,  now." 

"No,  not  now — to-morrow." 

"Oh,  no,  now.  Please,  Becky — I'll  whisper  it, 
I'll  whisper  it  ever  so  easy." 

Becky  hesitating,  Tom  took  silence  for  consent, 
and  passed  his  arm  about  her  waist  and  whispered 
the  tale  ever  so  softly,  with  his  mouth  close  to  her 
ear.  And  then  he  added : 

"Now  you  whisper  it  to  me — just  the  same." 

6  69 


MARK     TWAIN 

She  resisted,  for  a  while,  and  then  said : 

"You  turn  your  face  away  so  you  can't  see,  and 
then  I  will.  But  you  mustn't  ever  tell  anybody — 
will  you,  Tom?  Now  you  won't,  will  you?" 

"No,  indeed,  indeed  I  won't.     Now,  Becky." 

He  turned  his  face  away.  She  bent  timidly 
around  till  her  breath  stirred  his  curls  and  whis 
pered,  "I — love — you!" 

Then  she  sprang  away  and  ran  around  and 
around  the  desks  and  benches,  with  Tom  after  her, 
and  took  refuge  in  a  corner  at  last,  with  her  little 
white  apron  to  her  face.  Tom  clasped  her  about 
her  neck  and  pleaded: 

"Now,  Becky,  it's  all  done — all  over  but  the 
kiss.  Don't  you  be  afraid  of  that — it  ain't  any 
thing  at  all.  Please,  Becky."  And  he  tugged  at 
her  apron  and  the  hands. 

By  and  by  she  gave  up,  and  let  her  hands  drop; 
her  face,  all  glowing  with  the  struggle,  came 
up  and  submitted.  Tom  kissed  the  red  lips  and 
said: 

"Now  it's  all  done,  Becky.  And  always  after 
this,  you  know,  you  ain't  ever  to  love  anybody  but 
me,  and  you  ain't  ever  to  marry  anybody  but  me, 
never  never  and  forever.  Will  you?" 

"No,  I'll  never  love  anybody  but  you,  Tom,  and 
I'll  never  marry  anybody  but  you — and  you  ain't 
to  ever  marry  anybody  but  me,  either." 

"Certainly.  Of  course.  That's  part  of  it.  And 
always  coming  to  school  or  when  we're  going  home, 
you're  to  walk  with  me,  when  there  ain't  anybody 
looking — and  you  choose  me  and  I  choose  you  at 

70 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

parties,  because  that's  the  way  you  do  when  you're 
engaged." 

"It's  so  nice.     I  never  heard  of  it  before." 

4 'Oh,  it's  ever  so  gay!  Why,  me  and  Amy 
Lawrence — ' 

The  big  eyes  told  Tom  his  blunder  and  he  stopped, 
confused. 

"Oh,  Tom!  Then  I  ain't  the  first  you've  ever 
been  engaged  to!" 

The  child  began  to  cry.     Tom  said: 

"Oh,  don't  cry,  Becky,  I  don't  care  for  her  any 


more." 


"Yes,  you  do,  Tom — you  know  you  do." 

Tom  tried  to  put  his  arm  about  her  neck,  but  she 
pushed  him  away  and  turned  her  face  to  the  wall, 
and  went  on  crying.  Tom  tried  again,  with  sooth 
ing  words  in  his  mouth,  and  was  repulsed  again. 
Then  his  pride  was  up,  and  he  strode  away  and  went 
outside.  He  stood  about,  restless  and  uneasy,  for  a 
while,  glancing  at  the  door,  every  now  and  then, 
hoping  she  would  repent  and  come  to  find  him. 
But  she  did  not.  Then  he  began  to  feel  badly  and 
fear  that  he  was  in  the  wrong.  It  was  a  hard  strug 
gle  with  him  to  make  new  advances,  now,  but  he 
nerved  himself  to  it  and  entered.  She  was  still 
standing  back  there  in  the  corner,  sobbing,  with  her 
face  to  the  wall.  Tom's  heart  smote  him.  He 
went  to  her  and  stood  a  moment,  not  knowing 
exactly  how  to  proceed.  Then  he  said  hesitat 
ingly  : 

"Becky,  I — I  don't  care  for  anybody  but  you." 

No  reply — but  sobs. 


MARK     TWAIN 

''Becky," — pleadingly.  " Becky,  won't  you  say 
something?" 

More  sobs. 

Tom  got  out  his  chiefest  jewel,  a  brass  knob  from 
the  top  of  an  andiron,  and  passed  it  around  her  so 
that  she  could  see  it,  and  said: 

"Please,  Becky,  won't  you  take  it?" 

She  struck  it  to  the  floor.  Then  Tom  marched 
out  of  the  house  and  over  the  hills  and  far  away,  to 
return  to  school  no  more  that  day.  Presently  Becky 
began  to  suspect.  She  ran  to  the  door;  he  was  not 
in  sight;  she  flew  around  to  the  play -yard;  he  was 
not  there.  Then  she  called: 

"Tom!    Come  back,  Tom!" 

She  listened  intently,  but  there  was  no  answer. 
She  had  no  companions  but  silence  and  loneliness. 
So  she  sat  down  to  cry  again  and  upbraid  herself; 
and  by  this  time  the  scholars  began  to  gather  again, 
and  she  had  to  hide  her  griefs  and  still  her  broken 
heart  and  take  up  the  cross  of  a  long,  dreary,  aching 
afternoon,  with  none  among  the  strangers  about  her 
to  exchange  sorrows  with. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

TOM  dodged  hither  and  thither  through  lanes 
until  he  was  well  out  of  the  track  of  returning 
scholars,  and  then  fell  into  a  moody  jog.  He 
crossed  a  small  "branch"  two  or  three  times,  be 
cause  of  a  prevailing  juvenile  superstition  that  to 
cross  water  baffled  pursuit.  Half  an  hour  later  he 
was  disappearing  behind  the  Douglas  mansion  on  the 
summit  of  Cardiff  Hill,  and  the  schoolhouse  was  hard 
ly  distinguishable  away  off  in  the  valley  behind  him. 
He  entered  a  dense  wood,  picked  his  pathless  way  to 
the  center  of  it,  and  sat  down  on  a  mossy  spot  under 
a  spreading  oak.  There  was  not  even  a  zephyr 
stirring;  the  dead  noonday  heat  had  even  stilled  the 
songs  of  the  birds;  nature  lay  in  a  trance  that  was 
broken  by  no  sound  but  the  occasional  far-off  ham 
mering  of  a  woodpecker,  and  this  seemed  to  render 
the  pervading  silence  and  sense  of  loneliness  the 
more  profound.  The  boy's  soul  was  steeped  m 
melancholy;  his  feelings  were  in  happy  accord  with 
his  surroundings.  He  sat  long  with  his  elbows  on 
his  knees  and  his  chin  in  his  hands,  meditating.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  life  was  but  a  trouble,  at  best, 
and  he  more  than  half  envied  Jimmy  Hodges,  so 
lately  released;  it  must  be  very  peaceful,  he  thought, 
to  lie  and  slumber  and  dream  forever  and  ever,  with 

73 


MARK    TWAIN 

the  wind  whispering  through  the  trees  and  caressing 
the  grass  and  the  flowers  over  the  grave,  and  nothing 
to  bother  and  grieve  about,  ever  any  more.  If  he 
only  had  a  clean  Sunday-school  record  he  could  be 
willing  to  go,  and  be  done  with  it  all.  Now  as  to 
this  girl.  What  had  he  done?  Nothing.  He  had 
meant  the  best  in  the  world,  and  been  treated  like 
a  dog — like  a  very  dog.  She  would  be  sorry  some 
day — maybe  when  it  was  too  late.  Ah,  if  he  could 
only  die  temporarily! 

But  the  elastic  heart  of  youth  cannot  be  com 
pressed  into  one  constrained  shape  long  at  a  time. 
Tom  presently  began  to  drift  insensibly  back  into 
the  concerns  of  this  life  again.  What  if  he  turned 
his  back,  now,  and  disappeared  mysteriously  ?  What 
if  he  went  away — ever  so  far  away,  into  unknown 
countries  beyond  the  seas — and  never  came  back 
any  more!  How  would  she  feel  then!  The  idea  of 
being  a  clown  recurred  to  him  now,  only  to  fill  him 
with  disgust.  For  frivolity  and  jokes  and  spotted 
tights  were  an  offense,  when  they  intruded  them 
selves  upon  a  spirit  that  was  exalted  into  the  vague 
august  realm  of  the  romantic.  No,  he  would  be  a 
soldier,  and  return  after  long  years,  all  war-worn 
and  illustrious.  No — better  still,  he  would  join  the 
Indians,  and  hunt  buffaloes  and  go  on  the  warpath  in 
the  mountain  ranges  and  the  trackless  great  plains  of 
the  Far  West,  and  away  in  the  future  come  back 
a  great  chief,  bristling  with  feathers,  hideous  with 
paint,  and  prance  into  Sunday-school,  some  drowsy 
summer  morning,  with  a  blood-curdling  war-whoop, 
and  sear  the  eyeballs  of  all  his  companions  with 

74 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

unappeasable  envy.  But  no,  there  was  something 
gaudier  even  than  this.  He  would  be  a  pirate! 
That  was  it!  Now  his  future  lay  plain  before  him, 
and  glowing  with  unimaginable  splendor.  How  his 
name  would  fill  the  world,  and  make  people  shudder! 
How  gloriously  he  would  go  plowing  the  dancing 
seas,  in  his  long,  low,  black-hulled  racer,  the  Spirit 
of  the  Storm,  with  his  grisly  flag  flying  at  the 
fore!  And  at  the  zenith  of  his  fame,  how  he  would 
suddenly  appear  at  the  old  village  and  stalk  into 
church,  brown  and  weather-beaten,  in  his  black 
velvet  doublet  and  trunks,  his  great  jack-boots, 
his  crimson  sash,  his  belt  bristling  with  horse- 
pistols,  his  crime-rusted  cutlass  at  his  side,  his 
slouch  hat  with  waving  plumes,  his  black  flag  un 
furled,  with  the  skull  and  cross-bones  on  it,  and  hear 
with  swelling  ecstasy  the  whisperings,  "It's  Tom 
Sawyer  the  Pirate! — the  Black  Avenger  of  the 
Spanish  Main!" 

Yes,  it  was  settled;  his  career  was  determined. 
He  would  run  away  from  home  and  enter  upon  it. 
He  would  start  the  very  next  morning.  Therefore 
he  must  now  begin  to  get  ready.  He  would  collect 
his  resources  together.  He  went  to  a  rotten  log 
near  at  hand  and  began  to  dig  under  one  end  of 
it  with  his  Barlow  knife.  He  soon  struck  wood  that 
sounded  hollow.  He  put  his  hand  there  and  uttered 
this  incantation  impressively: 

"What  hasn't  come  here,  come!  What's  here, 
stay  here!" 

Then  he  scraped  away  the  dirt,  and  exposed  a 
pine  shingle.  He  took  it  up  and  disclosed  a  shapely 

75 


MARK    TWAIN 

little  treasure-house  whose  bottom  and  sides  were  of 
shingles.  In  it  lay  a  marble.  Tom's  astonishment 
was  boundless!  He  scratched  his  head  with  a  per 
plexed  air,  and  said: 

"Well,  that  beats  anything!" 

Then  he  tossed  the  marble  away  pettishly,  and 
stood  cogitating.  The  truth  was,  that  a  superstition 
of  his  had  failed,  here,  which  he  and  all  his  com 
rades  had  always  looked  upon  as  infallible.  If  you 
buried  a  marble  with  certain  necessary  incantations, 
and  left  it  alone  a  fortnight,  and  then  opened  the 
place  with  the  incantation  he  had  just  used,  you 
would  find  that  all  the  marbles  you  had  ever  lost 
had  gathered  themselves  together  there,  meantime, 
no  matter  how  widely  they  had  been  separated. 
But,  now  this  thing  had  actually  and  unquestionably 
failed.  Tom's  whole  structure  of  faith  was  shaken 
to  its  foundations.  He  had  many  a  time  heard  of 
this  thing  succeeding,  but  never  of  its  failing  before. 
It  did  not  occur  to  him  that  he  had  tried  it  several 
times  before,  himself,  but  could  never  find  the 
hiding-places  afterward.  He  puzzled  over  the  mat 
ter  some  time,  and  finally  decided  that  some  witch 
had  interfered  and  broken  the  charm.  He  thought 
he  would  satisfy  himself  on  that  point ;  so  he  searched 
around  till  he  found  a  small  sandy  spot  with  a  little 
funnel-shaped  depression  in  it.  He  laid  himself 
down  and  put  his  mouth  close  to  this  depression  and 
called : 

"Doodle-bug,  doodle-bug,  tell  me  what  I  want 
to  know!  Doodle-bug,  doodle-bug,  tell  me  what 
I  want  to  know!" 

76 


TOM     SAWYER 

The  sand  began  to  work,  and  presently  a  small 
black  bug  appeared  for  a  second  and  then  darted 
'fluder  again  in  a  fright. 

"He  dasn't  tell!  So  it  was  a  witch  that  done  it. 
I  just  knowed  it." 

He  well  knew  the  futility  of  trying  to  contend 
fcgainst  witches,  so  he  gave  up  discouraged.  But 
it  occurred  to  him  that  he  might  as  well  have  the 
marble  he  had  just  thrown  away,  and  therefore  he 
went  and  made  a  patient  search  for  it.  But  he 
could  not  find  it.  Now  he  went  back  to  his  treasure- 
house  and  carefully  placed  himself  just  as  he  had 
been  standing  when  he  tossed  the  marble  away; 
then  he  took  another  marble  from  his  pocket  and 
tossed  it  in  the  same  way,  saying:  ' 

"Brother,  go  find  your  brother!" 

He  watched  where  it  stopped,  and  went  there 
and  looked.  But  it  must  have  fallen  short  or  gone 
too  far;  so  he  tried  twice  more.  The  last  repeti 
tion  was  successful.  The  two  marbles  lay  within  a 
foot  of  each  other. 

Just  here  the  blast  of  a  toy  tin  trumpet  came 
faintly  down  the  green  aisles  of  the  forest.  Tom 
flung  off  his  jacket  and  trousers,  turned  a  suspender 
into  a  belt,  raked  away  some  brush  behind  the 
rotten  log,  disclosing  a  rude  bow  and  arrow,  a  lath 
sword  and  a  tin  trumpet,  and  in  a  moment  had 
seized  these  things  and  bounded  away,  barelegged, 
with  fluttering  shirt.  He  presently  halted  under  a 
great  elm,  blew  an  answering  blast,  and  then  began 
to  tiptoe  and  look  warily  out,  this  way  and  that. 
He  said  cautiously — to  an  imaginary  company: 

77 


MARK     TWAIN 

"Hold,  my  merry  men!     Keep  hid  till  I  blow." 

Now  appeared  Joe  Harper,  as  airily  clad  and 
elaborately  armed  as  Tom.  Tom  called: 

"Hold!  Who  comes  here  into  Sherwood  Forest 
without  my  pass?" 

"Guy  of  Guisborne  wants  no  man's  pass.  Who 
art  thou  that— that— " 

"Dares  to  hold  such  language,"  said  Tom,  prompt 
ing — for  they  talked  "by  the  booldtobom  memory. 

"Who  art  thou  that  dares  to  hold^  I language?" 

"I,  indeed!  I  am  Robin  Hoodj^Mfethy  caitiff 
carcass  soon  shall  know." 

"Then  art  thou  indeed  that  famous  outlaw? 
Right  gladly  will  I  dispute  with  thee  the  passes  of 
the  merry  wood.  Have  at  thee!" 

They  took  their  lath  swords,  dumped  their  other 
traps  on  the  ground,  struck  a  fencing  attitude,  foot 
to  foot,  and  began  a  grave,  careful  combat,  "two 
up  and  two  down."  Presently  Tom  said: 

"Now,  if  you've  got  the  hang,  go  it  lively!" 

So  they  "went  it  lively,"  panting  and  perspiring 
with  the  work.  By  and  by  Tom  shouted : 

"Fall!  fall!    Why  don't  you  fall?" 

' '  I  sha'n't !  Why  don't  you  fall  yourself  ?  You're 
getting  the  worst  of  it." 

"Why,  that  ain't  anything.  I  can't  fall;  that 
ain't  the  way  it  is  in  the  book.  The  book  says, 
'Then  with  one  back-handed  stroke  he  slew  poor 
Guy  of  Guisborne.'  You're  to  turn  around  and  let 
me  hit  you  in  the  back." 

There  was  no  getting  around  the  authorities,  so 
Joe  turned,  received  the  whack  and  fell. 

73 


ADVENTURES    OP    TOM    SAWYER 

''Now,"  said  Joe,  getting  up,  "you  got  to  let  me 
kill  you.  That's  fair." 

"Why,  I  can't  do  that,  it  ain't  in  the  book." 
"Well,  it's  blamed  mean— that's  all." 
"Well,  say,  Joe,  you  can  be  Friar  Tuck  or  Much 
the  miller's  son,  and  lam  me  with  a  quarter-staff;  or 
111  be  the  Sheriff  of  Nottingham  and  you  be  Robin 
Hood  a  little  while  and  kill  me." 

This  was  satisfactory,  and  so  these  adventures 
were  carried  out.  Then  Tom  became  Robin  Hood 
again,  and  was  allowed  by  the  treacherous  nun  to 
bleed  his  strength  away  through  his  neglected 
wound.  And  at  last  Joe,  representing  a  whole  tribe 
of  weeping  outlaws,  dragged  him  sadly  forth,  gave 
his  bow  into  his  feeble  hands,  and  Tom  said,  "Where 
this  arrow  falls,  there  bury  poor  Robin  Hood  under 
the  greenwood  tree."  Then  he  shot  the  arrow  and 
fell  back  and  would  have  died,  but  he  lit  on  a  nettle 
and  sprang  up  too  gaily  for  a  corpse. 

The  boys  dressed  themselves,  hid  their  accoutre 
ments,  and  went  off  grieving  that  there  were  no  out 
laws  any  more,  and  wondering  what  modern  civiliza 
tion  could  claim  to  have  done  to  compensate  for 
their  loss.  They  said  they  would  rather  be  outlaws 
a  year  in  Sherwood  Forest  than  President  of  the 
United  States  forever. 


0     * 


CHAPTER  IX 

A!1  half  past  nine,  that  night,  Tom  and  Sid  were 
sent  to  bed,  as  usual.  They  said  their  prayers, 
and  Sid  was  soon  asleep.  Tom  lay  awake  and 
waited,  in  restless  impatience.  When  it  seemed  to 
him  that  it  must  be  nearly  daylight,  he  heard  the 
clock  strike  ten!  This  was  despair.  He  would 
have  tossed  and  fidgeted,  as  his  nerves  demanded, 
but  he  was  afraid  he  might  wake  Sid.  So  he  lay 
still,  and  stared  up  into  the  dark.  Everything  was 
dismally  still.  By  and  by,  out  of  the  stillness,  little, 
scarcely  perceptible  noises  began  to  emphasize  them 
selves.  The  ticking  of  the  clock  began  to  bring  it 
self  into  notice.  Old  beams  began  to  crack  mysteri 
ously.  The  stairs  creaked  faintly.  Evidently  spirits 
were  abroad.  A  measured,  muffled  snore  issued 
from  Aunt  Polly's  chamber.  And  now  the  tiresome 
chirping  of  a  cricket  that  no  human  ingenuity  could 
locate,  began.  Next  the  ghastly  ticking  of  a  death- 
watch  in  the  wall  at  the  bed's  head  made  Tom 
shudder — it  meant  that  somebody's  days  were  num 
bered.  Then  the  howl  of  a  far-off  dog  rose  on  the 
night  air,  and  was  answered  by  a  fainter  howl  from 
a  remoter  distance.  Tom  was  in  an  agony.  At 
last  he  was  satisfied  that  time  had  ceased  and  eternity 
begun;  he  began  to  doze,  in  spite  of  himself;  the 

80 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

clock  chimed  eleven,  but  he  did  not  hear  it.  And 
then  there  came,  mingling  with  his  half-formed 
dreams,  a  most  melancholy  caterwauling.  The 
raising  of  a  neighboring  window  disturbed  him.  A 
cry  of  "Scat!  you  devil!"  and  the  crash  of  an 
empty  bottle  against  the  back  of  his  aunt's  woodshed 
brought  him  wide  awake,  and  a  single  minute  later 
he  was  dressed  and  out  of  the  window  and  creeping 
along  the  roof  of  the  "ell"  on  all  fours.  He  "me- 
ow'd"  with  caution  once  or  twice,  as  he  went; 
then  jumped  to  the  roof  of  the  woodshed  and  thence 
to  the  ground.  Huckleberry  Finn  was  there,  with 
his  dead  cat.  The  boys  moved  off  and  disappeared 
in  the  gloom.  At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  they 
were  wading  through  the  tall  grass  of  the  graveyard. 

It  was  a  graveyard  of  the  old-fashioned  Western 
kind.  It  was  on  a  hill,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from 
the  village.  It  had  a  crazy  board  fence  around  it, 
which  leaned  inward  in  places,  and  outward  the  rest 
of  the  time,  but  stood  upright  nowhere.  Grass  and 
weeds  grew  rank  over  the  whole  cemetery.  All  the 
old  graves  were  sunken  in,  there  was  not  a  tombstone 
on  the  place;  round-topped,  worm-eaten  boards 
staggered  over  the  graves,  leaning  for  support  and 
finding  none.  "Sacred  to  the  memory  of"  So- 
and-So  had  been  painted  on  them  once,  but  it  could 
no  longer  have  been  read,  on  the  most  of  them,  now, 
even  if  there  had  been  light. 

A  faint  wind  moaned  through  the  trees,  and  Tom 
feared  it  might  be  the  spirits  of  the  dead,  complain 
ing  of  being  disturbed.  The  boys  talked  little,  and 
only  under  their  breath,  for  the  time  and  the  place 

81 


MARK    TWAIN 

and  the  pervading  solemnity  and  silence  oppressed 
their  spirits.  They  found  the  sharp  new  heap  they 
were  seeking,  and  ensconced  themselves  within  the 
protection  of  three  great  elms  that  grew  in  a  bunch 
within  a  few  feet  of  the  grave. 

Then  they  waited  in  silence  for  what  seemed  a  long 
time.  The  hooting  of  a  distant  owl  was  all  the  sound 
that  troubled  the  dead  stillness.  Tom's  reflections 
grew  oppressive.  He  must  force  some  talk.  So  he 
said  in  a  whisper: 

"Hucky,  do  you  believe  the  dead  people  like  it 
for  us  to  be  here?" 

Huckleberry  whispered: 

"I  wisht  I  knowed.  It's  awful  solemn  like,  ain't 
it?" 

"I  bet  it  is." 

There  was  a  considerable  pause,  while  the  boys 
canvassed  this  matter  inwardly.  Then  Tom  whis 
pered: 

"Say,  Hucky — do  you  reckon  Hoss  Williams 
hears  us  talking?" 

"O'  course  he  does.     Least  his  sperrit  does." 

Tom,  after  a  pause: 

"I  wish  I'd  said  Mister  Williams.  But  I  never 
meant  any  harm.  Everybody  calls  him  Hoss." 

"A  body  can't  be  too  partic'lar  how  they  talk 
'bout  these  yer  dead  people,  Tom." 

This  was  a  damper,  and  conversation  died  again. 

Presently  Tom  seized  his  comrade's  arm  and  said : 

'"Sh!"  " 

"What  is  it,  Tom?"  And  the  two  clung  together 
with  beating  hearts. 

82 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

'"Sh!    There  'tis  again!    Didn't  you  hear  it?" 

«  T >» 

"There!    Now  you  hear  it." 

"Lord,  Tom,  they're  coming!  They're  coining, 
sure.  What  '11  we  do?" 

"I  dono.     Think  they'll  see  us?" 

"Oh,  Tom,  they  can  see  in  the  dark,  same  as  cats. 
I  wisht  I  hadn't  come." 

"Oh,  don't  be  afeard.  I  don't  believe  they'll 
bother  us.  We  ain't  doing  any  harm.  If  we  keep 
perfectly  still,  maybe  they  won't  notice  us  at  all." 

"I'll  try  to,  Tom,  but  Lord,  I'm  all  of  a  shiver." 

"Listen!" 

The  boys  bent  their  heads  together  and  scarcely 
breathed.  A  muffled  sound  of  voices  floated  up 
from  the  far  end  of  the  graveyard. 

"Look!  See  there!"  whispered  Tom.  "What 
is  it?" 

"It's  devil-fire.     Oh,  Tom,  this  is  awful." 

Some  vague  figures  approached  through  the  gloom, 
swinging  an  old-fashioned  tin  lantern  that  freckled 
the  ground  with  innumerable  little  spangles  of  light. 
Presently  Huckleberry  whispered  with  a  shudder: 

"It's  the  devils,  sure  enough.  Three  of  'em! 
Lordy,  Tom,  we're  goners!  Can  you  pray?" 

"I'll  try,  but  don't  you  be  afeard.     They  ain't 

going  to  hurt  us.     Now  I  lay  me  down  to  sleep, 
j »» 

"'Sh!" 

"What  is  it,  Huck?" 

"They're  humans!  One  of  'em  is,  anyway.  One 
of  'em's  old  Muff  Potter's  voice." 

83 


MARK    TWAIN 

"No— tain't  so,  is  it?" 

"I  bet  I  know  it.  Don't  you  stir  nor  budge. 
He  ain't  sharp  enough  to  notice  us.  Drunk,  the 
same  as  usual,  likely — blamed  old  rip!" 

"All  right,  I'll  keep  still.  Now  they're  stuck. 
Can't  find  it.  Here  they  come  again.  Now  they're 
hot.  Cold  again.  Hot  again.  Red  hot!  They're 
p'inted  right,  this  time.  Say,  Huck,  I  know  another 
o'  them  voices;  it's  Injun  Joe." 

0 That's  so  — that  murderin'  half-breed!  I'd 
druther  they  was  devils  a  dern  sight.  What  kin 
they  be  up  to?" 

The  whisper  died  wholly  out,  now,  for  the  three 
men  had  reached  the  grave  and  stood  within  a  few 
feet  of  the  boys'  hiding-place. 

"Here  it  is,"  said  the  third  voice;  and  the  owner 
of  it  held  the  lantern  up  and  revealed  the  face  of 
young  Dr.  Robinson. 

Potter  and  Injun  Joe  were  carrying  a  handbarrow 
with  a  rope  and  a  couple  of  shovels  on  it.  They 
cast  down  their  load  and  began  to  open  the  grave. 
The  doctor  put  the  lantern  at  the  head  of  the  grave 
and  came  and  sat  down  with  his  back  against  one  of 
the  elm  trees.  He  was  so  close  the  boys  could  have 
touched  him. 

"Hurry,  men!"  he  said  in  a  low  voice;  "the 
moon  might  come  out  at  any  moment. 

They  growled  a  response  and  went  on  digging. 
For  some  time  there  was  no  noise  but  the  grating 
sound  of  the  spades  discharging  their  freight  of 
mold  and  gravel.  It  was  very  monotonous.  Final 
ly  a  spade  struck  upon  the  coffin  with  a  dull  woody 

84 


ADVENTURES    OP    TOM    SAWYER 

accent,  and  within  another  minute  or  two  the  men 
had  hoisted  it  out  on  the  ground.  They  pried  off 
the  lid  with  their  shovels,  got  out  the  body  and 
dumped  it  rudely  on  the  ground.  The  moon  drifted 
from  behind  the  clouds  and  exposed  the  pallid  face. 
The  barrow  was  got  ready  and  the  corpse  placed  on 
it,  covered  with  a  blanket,  and  bound  to  its  place 
with  the  rope.  Potter  took  out  a  large  spring-knife 
and  cut  off  the  dangling  end  of  the  rope  and  then 
said : 

1 '  Now  the  cussed  thing's  ready,  Sawbones,  and 
you'll  just  out  with  another  five,  or  here  she  stays." 

"That's  the  talk!"  said  Injun  Joe. 

"Look  here,  what  does  this  mean?"  said  the 
doctor.  "You  required  your  pay  in  advance,  and 
I've  paid  you." 

"Yes,  and  you  done  more  than  that,"  said  Injun 
Joe,  approaching  the  doctor,  who  was  now  standing. 
"Five  years  ago  you  drove  me  away  from  your 
father's  kitchen  one  night,  when  I  come  to  ask  for 
something  to  eat,  and  you  said  I  warn't  there  for 
any  good;  and  when  I  swore  I'd  get  even  with  you 
if  it  took  a  hundred  years,  your  father  had  me  jailed 
for  a  vagrant.  Did  you  think  I'd  forget?  The 
Injun  blood  ain't  in  me  for  nothing.  And  now  I've 
got  you,  and  you  got  to  settle,  you  know!" 

He  was  threatening  the  doctor,  with  his  fist  in  his 
face,  by  this  time.  The  doctor  struck  out  suddenly 
and  stretched  the  ruffian  on  the  ground.  Potter 
dropped  his  knife,  and  exclaimed : 

"Here,  now,  don't  you  hit  my  pard!"  and  the 
next  moment  he  had  grappled  with  the  doctor  and 
7  85 


MARK     TWAIN 

the  two  were  struggling  with  might  and  main, 
trampling  the  grass  and  tearing  the  ground  with 
their  heels.  Injun  Joe  sprang  to  his  feet,  his  eyes 
flaming  with  passion,  snatched  up  Potter's  knife, 
and  went  creeping,  catlike  and  stooping,  round  and 
round  about  the  combatants,  seeking  an  opportunity. 
All  at  once  the  doctor  flung  himself  free,  seized  the 
heavy  head-board  of  Williams'  grave  and  felled 
Potter  to  the  earth  with  it — and  in  the  same  instant 
the  half-breed  saw  his  chance  and  drove  the  knife 
to  the  hilt  in  the  young  man's  breast.  He  reeled 
and  fell  partly  upon  Potter,  flooding  him  with  his 
blood,  and  in  the  same  moment  the  clouds  blotted 
out  the  dreadful  spectacle  and  the  two  frightened 
boys  went  speeding  away  in  the  dark. 

Presently,  when  the  moon  emerged  again,  Injun 
Joe  was  standing  over  the  two  forms,  contem 
plating  them.  The  doctor  murmured  inarticulately, 
gave  a  long  gasp  or  two  and  was  still.  The  half- 
breed  muttered: 

"That  score  is  settled — damn  you." 

Then  he  robbed  the  body.  After  which  he  put  the 
fatal  knife  in  Potter's  open  right  hand,  and  sat  down 
on  the  dismantled  coffin.  Three — four — five  minutes 
passed,  and  then  Potter  began  to  stir  and  moan. 
His  hand  closed  upon  the  knife ;  he  raised  it,  glanced 
at  it,  and  let  it  fall,  with  a  shudder.  Then  he  sat 
up,  pushing  the  body  from  him,  and  gazed  at  it,  and 
then  around  him,  confusedly.  His  eyes  met  Joe's. 

"Lord,  how  is  this,  Joe?"  he  said. 

"It's  a  dirty  business,"  said  Joe,  without  moving. 
"What  did  you  do  it  for?" 

86 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"I!    I  never  done  it!" 

"Look  here!    That  kind  of  talk  won't  wash." 

Potter  trembled  and  grew  white. 

"I  thought  I'd  got  sober.  I'd  no  business  to 
drink  to-night.  But  it's  in  my  head  yet — worse'n 
when  we  started  here.  I'm  all  in  a  muddle;  can't 
recollect  anything  of  it,  hardly.  Tell  me,  Joe — 
honest,  now,  old  feller — did  I  do  it?  Joe,  I  never 
meant  to — 'pon  my  soul  and  honor,  I  never  meant 
to,  Joe.  Tell  me  how  it  was,  Joe.  Oh,  it's  awful 
— and  him  so  young  and  promising." 

"Why,  you  two  was  scuffling,  and  he  fetched  you 
one  with  the  headboard  and  you  fell  flat;  and  then 
up  you  come,  all  reeling  and  staggering,  like,  and 
snatched  the  knife  and  jammed  it  into  him,  just  as  he 
fetched  you  another  awful  clip — and  here  you've 
laid,  as  dead  as  a  wedge  till  now." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know  what  I  was  a-doing.  I  wish 
I  may  die  this  minute  if  I  did.  It  was  all  on  ac 
count  of  the  whisky;  and  the  excitement,  I  reckon. 
I  never  used  a  weepon  in  my  life  before,  Joe.  I've 
fought,  but  never  with  weepons.  They'll  all  say 
that.  Joe,  don't  tell!  Say  you  won't  tell,  Joe— 
that's  a  good  feller.  I  always  liked  you,  Joe,  and 
stood  up  for  you,  too.  Don't  you  remember?  You 
won't  tell,  will  you,  Joe?"  And  the  poor  creature 
dropped  on  his  knees  before  the  stolid  murderer,  and 
clasped  his  appealing  hands. 

"No,  you've  always  been  fair  and  square  with 
me,  Muff  Potter,  and  I  won't  go  back  on  you. 
There,  now,  that's  as  fair  as  a  man  can  say." 

"Oh,  Joe,  you're  an  angel.  I'll  bless  you  for 

87 


MARK    TWAIN 

this  the  longest  day  I  live."  And  Potter  began 
to  cry. 

"Come,  now,  that's  enough  of  that.  This  ain't 
any  time  for  blubbering.  You  be  off  yonder  way 
and  I'll  go  this.  Move,  now,  and  don't  leave  any 
tracks  behind  you." 

Potter  started  on  a  trot  that  quickly  increased  to 
a  run.  The  half-breed  stood  looking  after  him. 
He  muttered: 

"  If  he's  as  much  stunned  with  the  lick  and  fud 
dled  with  the  rum  as  he  had  the  look  of  being,  he 
won't  think  of  the  knife  till  he's  gone  so  far  he'll 
be  afraid  to  come  back  after  it  to  such  a  place  by 
himself — chicken-heart !" 

Two  or  three  minutes  later  the  murdered  man, 
the  blanketed  corpse,  the  lidless  coffin,  and  the 
open  grave  were  under  no  inspection  but  the  moon's. 
The  stillness  was  complete  again,  too. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  two  boys  flew  on  and  on,  toward  the  village, 
speechless  with  horror.  They  glanced  back 
ward  over  their  shoulders  from  time  to  time,  appre 
hensively,  as  if  they  feared  they  might  be  followed. 
Every  stump  that  started  up  in  their  path  seemed  a 
man  and  an  enemy,  and  made  them  catch  their 
breath;  and  as  they  sped  by  some  outlying  cottages 
that  lay  near  the  village,  the  barking  of  the  aroused 
watch-dogs  seemed  to  give  wings  to  their  feet. 

"If  we  can  only  get  to  the  old  tannery  before  we 
break  down!'*  whispered  Tom,  in  short  catches  be 
tween  breaths,  "I  can't  stand  it  much  longer.*' 

Huckleberry's  hard  pantings  were  his  only  reply, 
and  the  boys  fixed  their  eyes  on  the  goal  of  their 
hopes  and  bent  to  their  work  to  win  it.  They  gained 
steadily  on  it,  and  at  last,  breast  4o  breast,  they 
burst  through  the  open  door  and  fell  grateful  and 
exhausted  in  the  sheltering  shadows  beyond.  By 
and  by  their  pulses  slowed  down,  and  Tom  whis 
pered: 

"Huckleberry,  what  do  you  reckon  '11  come  of 
this?" 

"If  Dr.  Robinson  dies,  I  reckon  hanging  '11  come 
of  it." 

"Do  you  tfcough?" 

89 


•     MARK    TWAIN 

"Why,  I  know  it,  Tom." 

Tom  thought  awhile,  then  he  said: 

"Who'll  tell?    We?" 

"What  are  you  talking  about?  S'pose  something 
happened  and  Injun  Joe  didn't  hang?  Why  he'd 
kill  us  some  time  or  other,  just  as  dead  sure  as  we're 
a-laying  here." 

"That's  just  what  I  was  thinking  to  myself, 
Huck." 

"If  anybody  tells,  let  Muff  Potter  do  it,  if  he's 
fool  enough.  He's  generally  drunk  enough." 

Tom  said  nothing — went  on  thinking.  Presently 
he  whispered: 

"Huck,  Muff  Potter  don't  know  it.  How  can  he 
tell?" 

"What's  the  reason  he  don't  know  it?" 

"Because  he'd  just  got  that  whack  when  Injun 
Joe  done  it.  D'  you  reckon  he  could  see  any  thing? 
D*  you  reckon  he  knowed  anything?" 

"By  hokey,  that's  so,  Tom!" 

"And  besides,  look-a-here — maybe  that  whack 
done  for  him£ 

"No,  ' tarn V likely,  Tom.  He  had  liquor  in  him; 
I  could  see  that ;  and  besides,  he  always  has.  Well, 
when  pap's  full,  you  might  take  and  belt  him  over 
the  head  with  a  church  and  you  couldn't  phase  him. 
He  says  so,  his  own  self.  So  it's  the  same  with  Muff 
Potter,  of  course.  But  if  a  man  was  dead  sober,  I 
reckon  maybe  that  whack  might  fetch  him;  I  dono." 

After  another  reflective  silence,  Ton      •'*: 

"Hucky,  you  sure  you  can  keep  mi 

"Tom,  we  got  to  keep  mum.  Yci  that. 

90 


ADVENTURES    OP    TOM    SAWYER 

That  Injun  devil  wouldn't  make  any  more  of  drownd- 
ing  us  than  a  couple  of  cats,  if  we  was  to  squeak 
'bout  this  and  they  didn't  hang  him.  Now,  look-a- 
here,  Tom,  less  take  and  swear  to  one  another — 
that's  what  we  got  to  do — swear  to  keep  mum." 

"I'm  agreed.  It's  the  best  thing.  Would  you 
just  hold  hands  and  swear  that  we — " 

"Oh,  no,  that  wouldn't  do  for  this.  That's  good 
enough  for  little  rubbishy  common  things — specially 
with  gals,  cuz  they  go  back  on  you  anyway,  and  blab 
if  they  get  in  a  huff — but  there  orter  be  writing 
'bout  a  big  thing  like  this.  And  blood." 

Tom's  whole  being  applauded  this  idea.  It  was 
deep,  and  dark,  and  awful;  the  hour,  the  circum 
stances,  the  surroundings,  were  in  keeping  with  it. 
He  picked  up  a  clean  pine  shingle  that  lay  in  the 
moonlight,  took  a  little  fragment  of  "red  keel"  out 
of  his  pocket,  got  the  moon  on  his  work,  and  pain 
fully  scrawled  these  lines,  emphasizing  each  slow 
down-stroke  by  clamping  his  tongue  between  his 
teeth,  and  letting  up  the  pressure  on  the  up-strokes 
[See  next  page.] 

Huckleberry  was  filled  with  admiration  of  Tom's 
facility  in  writing,  and  the  sublimity  of  his  language. 
He  at  once  took  a  pin  from  his  lapel  and  was  going 
to  prick  his  flesh,  but  Tom  said : 

"Hold  on!  Don't  do  that.  A  pin's  brass.  It 
might  have  verdigrease  on  it." 

1 '  What's  verdigrease  ? ' ' 

"It's  p'ison.  That's  what  it  is.  You  just  swaller 
some  of  it  once — you'll  see." 

So  Tom  unwound  the  thread  from  one  of  his  nee- 

91 


MARK     TWAIN 


dies,  and  each  boy  pricked  the  ball  of  his  thumb  and 
squeezed  out  a  drop  of  blood.  In  time,  after  many 
squeezes,  Tom  managed  to  sign  his  initials,  using 
the  ball  of  his  little  finger  for  a  pen.  Then  he 
showed  Huckleberry  how  to  make  an  H  and  an  F, 
and  the  oath  was  complete.  They  buried  the 
shingle  close  to  the  wall,  with  some  dismal  cere 
monies  and  incantations,  and  the  fetters  that  bound 
their  tongues  were  considered  to  be  locked  and  the 
key  thrown  away. 

A  figure  crept  stealthily  through  a  break  in  the 
other  end  of  the  ruined  building,  now,  but  they  did 
not  notice  it. 

92 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

''Tom,"  whispered  Huckleberry,  "does  this  keep 
us  from  ever  telling — always?" 

"Of  course  it  does.  It  don't  make  any  differ 
ence  what  happens,  we  got  to  keep  mum.  We'd 
drop  down  dead — don't  you  know  that?" 

"Yes,  I  reckon  that's  so." 

They  continued  to  whisper  for  some  little  time. 
Presently  a  dog  set  up  a  long,  lugubrious  howl  just 
outside — within  ten  feet  of  them.  The  boys  clasped 
each  other  suddenly,  in  an  agony  of  fright. 

"Which  of  us  does  he  mean?"  gasped  Huckle 
berry. 

"I  dono — peep  through  the  crack.     Quick!" 

"No,  you,  Tom!" 

"I  can't— I  can't  do  it,  Huck!" 

"Please,  Tom.     There  'tis  again!" 

"Oh,  lordy,  I'm  thankful!"  whispered  Tom. 
"I  know  his  voice.  It's  Bull  Harbison."1 

"Oh,  that's  good — I  tell  you,  Tom,  I  was  most 
scared  to  death;  I'd  'a'  bet  anything  it  was  a  stray 
dog." 

The  dog  howled  again.  The  boys'  hearts  sank 
once  more. 

"Oh,. my!  that  ain't  no  Bull  Harbison!"  whispered 
Huckleberry.  ' '  Do,  Tom !" 

Tom,  quaking  with  fear,  yielded,  and  put  his  eye 
to  the  crack.  His  whisper  was  hardly  audible  when 
he  said: 

"Oh,  Huck,  IT'S  A  STRAY  DOG!" 

'If  Mr.  Harbison  had  owned  a  slave  named  Bull,  Tom  would 
have  spoken  of  him  as  "Harbison's  Bull,"  but  a  sou  or  a  dog  of 
that  name  was  "Bull  Harbison." 

93 


MARK    TWAIN 

" Quick,  Tom,  quick!    Who  does  he  mean?" 

"Huck,  he  must  mean  us  both — we're  right 
together." 

"Oh,  Tom,  I  reckon  we're  goners.  I  reckon  there 
ain't  no  mistake  'bout  where  I'll  go  to.  I  been  so 
wicked." 

"Dad  fetch  it!  This  comes  of  playing  hookey 
and  doing  everything  a  feller's  told  not  to  do.  I 
might  'a'  been  good,  like  Sid,  if  I'd  'a'  tried — but  no, 
I  wouldn't,  of  course.  But  if  ever  I  get  off  this 
time,  I  lay  I'll  just  waller  in  Sunday-schools!"  And 
Tom  began  to  snuffle  a  little. 

"You  bad!"  and  Huckleberry  began  to  snuffle 
too.  "Consound  it,  Tom  Sawyer,  you're  just  old 
pie,  'longside  o'  what  I  am.  Oh,  lordy,  lordy, 
lordy,  I  wisht  I  only  had  half  your  chance." 

Tom  choked  off  and  whispered : 

"Look,  Hucky,  look!  He's  got  his  back  to 
us!" 

Hucky  looked,  with  joy  in  his  heart. 

"Well,  he  has,  by  jingoes!    Did  he  before?" 

"Yes,  he  did.  But  I,  like  a  fool,  never  thought. 
Oh,  this  is  bully,  you  know.  Now  who  can  he 
mean?" 

The  howling  stopped.     Tom  pricked  up  his  ears. 

"  'Sh !    What's  that  ?"  he  whispered. 

"Sounds  like  —  like  hogs  grunting.  No  —  it's 
somebody  snoring,  Tom." 

"That  is  it!    Where'bouts  is  it,  Huck?" 

"I  bleeve  it's  down  at  'tother  end.  Sounds  so, 
anyway.  Pap  used  to  sleep  there,  sometimes,  'long 
with  the  hogs,  but  laws  bless  you,  he  just  lifts  things 

94 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

when  he  snores.  Besides,  I  reckon  he  ain't  ever 
coming  back  to  this  town  any  more." 

The  spirit  of  adventure  rose  in  the  boys'  souls 
once  more. 

"Hucky,  do  you  das't  to  go  if  I  lead?" 

"I  don't  like  to,  much.  Tom,  s'pose  it's  Injun 
Joe!" 

Tom  quailed.  But  presently  the  temptation  rose 
up  strong  again  and  the  boys  agreed  to  try,  with 
the  understanding  that  they  would  take  to  their 
heels  if  the  snoring  stopped.  So  they  went  tiptoe 
ing  stealthily  down,  the  one  behind  the  other.  When 
they  had  got  to  within  five  steps  of  the  snorer, 
Tom  stepped  on  a  stick,  and  it  broke  with  a  sharp 
snap.  The  man  moaned,  writhed  a  little,  and  his 
face  came  into  the  moonlight.  It  was  Muff  Potter. 
The  boys'  hearts  had  stood  still,  and  their  hopes 
too,  when  the  man  moved,  but  their  fears  passed 
away  now.  They  tiptoed  out,  through  the  broken 
weather-boarding,  and  stopped  at  a  little  distance 
to  exchange  a  parting  word.  That  long,  lugubrious 
howl  rose  on  the  night  air  again!  They  turned  and 
saw  the  strange  dog  standing  within  a  few  feet  of 
where  Potter  was  lying,  and  facing  Potter,  with  his 
nose  pointing  heavenward. 

"Oh,  geeminy,  it's  him!"  exclaimed  both  boys, 
in  a  breath. 

"Say,  Tom — they  say  a  stray  dog  come  howling 
around  Johnny  Miller's  house,  'bout  midnight,  as 
much  as  two  weeks  ago;  and  a  whippoorwill  come 
in  and  lit  on  the  banisters  and  sung,  the  very  same 
evening;  and  there  ain't  anybody  dead  there  yet." 

95 


MARK     TWAIN 

"Well,  I  know  that.  And  suppose  there  ain't. 
Didn't  Grade  Miller  fall  in  the  kitchen  fire  and 
burn  herself  terrible  the  very  next  Saturday?" 

"Yes,  but  she  ain't  dead.  And  what's  more, 
she's  getting  better,  too." 

"All  right,  you  wait  and  see.  She's  a  goner, 
just  as  dead  sure  as  Muff  Potter's  a  goner.  That's 
what  the  niggers  say,  and  they  know  all  about  these 
kind  of  things,  Huck." 

Then  they  separated,  cogitating.  When  Tom 
crept  in  at  his  bedroom  window  the  night  was  al 
most  spent.  He  undressed  with  excessive  caution, 
and  fell  asleep  congratulating  himself  that  nobody 
knew  of  his  escapade.  He  was  not  aware  that  the 
gently  snoring  Sid  was  awake,  and  had  been  so  for 
an  hour. 

When  Tom  awoke,  Sid  was  dressed  and  gone. 
There  was  a  late  look  in  the  light,  a  late  sense  in 
the  atmosphere.  He  was  startled.  Why  had  he 
not  been  called — persecuted  till  he  was  up,  as  usual? 
The  thought  filled  him  with  bodings.  Within  five 
minutes  he  was  dressed  and  down-stairs,  feeling  sore 
and  drowsy.  The  family  were  still  at  table,  but 
they  had  finished  breakfast.  There  was  no  voice  of 
rebuke;  but  there  were  averted  eyes;  there  was  a 
silence  and  an  air  of  solemnity  that  struck  a  chill  to 
the  culprit's  heart.  He  sat  dov^jfid  tried  to  seem 
gay,  but  it  was  up-hill  work;  it^Pised  no  smile,  no 
response,  and  he  lapsed  into  silence  and  let  his  heart 
sink  down  to  the  depths. 

After  breakfast  his  aunt  took  him  aside,  and  Tom 
almost  brightened  in  the  hope  that  he  was  going  to 

96 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER' 

be  flogged;  but  it  was  not  so.  His  aunt  wept  over 
him  and  asked  him  how  he  could  go  and  break  her 
old  heart  so;  and  finally  told  him  to  go  on,  and  ruin 
himself  and  bring  her  gray  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the 
grave,  for  it  was  no  use  for  her  to  try  any  more. 
This  was  worse  than  a  thousand  whippings,  and 
Tom's  heart  was  sorer  now  than  his  body.  He 
cried,  he  pleaded  for  forgiveness,  promised  to  reform 
over  and  over  again,  and  then  received  his  dismissal, 
feeling  that  he  had  won  but  an  imperfect  forgiveness 
and  established  but  a  feeble  confidence. 

He  left  the  presence  too  miserable  to  even  feel 
revengeful  toward  Sid;  and  so  the  latter's  prompt 
retreat  through  the  back  gate  was  unnecessary.  He 
moped  to  school  gloomy  and  sad,  and  took  his  flog 
ging,  along  with  Joe  Harper,  for  playing  hookey  the 
day  before,  with  the  air  of  one  whose  heart  was 
busy  with  heavier  woes  and  wholly  dead  to  trifles. 
Then  he  betook  himself  to  his  seat,  rested  his  elbows 
on  his  desk  and  his  jaws  in  his  hands,  and  stared  at 
the  wall  with  the  stony  stare  of  suffering  that  has 
reached  the  limit  and  can  no  further  go.  His  elbow  \ 
was  pressing  against  some  hard  substance.  After  a 
long  time  he  slowly  and  sadly  changed  his  position, 
and  took  up  this  object  with  a  sigh.  It  was  in  a 
paper.  He  unrolled  it.  A  long,  lingering,  colossal 
sigh  followed,  and  his  heart  broke.  It  was  his  brass 
andiron  knob! 

This  final  feather  broke  the  camel's  back. 


CHAPTER  XI 

upon  the  hour  of  noon  the  whole  village 
was  suddenly  electrified  with  the  ghastly  news. 
No  need  of  the  as  yet  undreamed-of  telegraph;  the 
tale  flew  from  man  to  man,  from  group  to  group, 
from  house  to  house,  with  little  less  than  telegraphic 
speed.  Of  course  the  schoolmaster  gave  holiday  for 
that  afternoon;  the  town  would  have  thought 
strangely  of  him  if  he  had  not. 

A  gory  knife  had  been  found  close  to  the  mur 
dered  man,  and  it  had  been  recognized  by  somebody 
as  belonging  to  Muff  Potter — so  the  story  ran. 
And  it  was  said  that  a  belated  citizen  had  come  upon 
Potter  washing  himself  in  the  " branch"  about  one 
or  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  that  Potter  had 
at  once  sneaked  off — suspicious  circumstances,  es 
pecially  the  washing,  which  was  not  a  habit  with 
Potter.  It  was  also  said  that  the  town  had  been 
ransacked  for  this  " murderer"  (the  public  are  not 
slow  in  the  matter  of  sifting  evidence  and  arriving  at 
a  verdict),  but  that  he  could  not  be  found.  Horse 
men  had  departed  down  all  the  roads  in  every  direc 
tion,  and  the  Sheriff  "was  confident"  that  he  would 
be  captured  before  night. 

All  the  town  was  drifting  toward  the  graveyard. 
Tom's  heartbreak  vanished  and  he  joined  the  pro- 

98 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

cession,  not  because  he  would  not  a  thousand  times 
rather  go  anywhere  else,  but  because  an  awful,  un 
accountable  fascination  drew  him  on.  Arrived  at  the' 
dreadful  place,  he  wormed  his  small  body  through 
the  crowd  and  saw  the  dismal  spectacle.  It  seemed 
to  him  an  age  since  he  was  there  before.  Some 
body  pinched  his  arm.  He  turned,  and  his  eyes 
met  Huckleberry's.  Then  both  looked  elsewhere  at 
once,  and  wondered  if  anybody  had  noticed  anything 
in  their  mutual  glance.  But  everybody  was  talking, 
and  intent  upon  the  grisly  spectacle  before  them. 

"Poor  fellow!0  "Poor  young  fellow!'*  "This 
ought  to  be  a  lesson  to  grave  -  robbers !"  "Muff 
Potter  '11  hang  for  this  if  they  catch  him!"  This 
was  the  drift  of  remark;  and  the  minister  said,  "It 
was  a  judgment;  His  hand  is  here." 

Now  Tom  shivered  from  head  to  heel;  for  his 
eye  fell  upon  the  stolid  face  of  Injun  Joe.  At  this 
moment  the  crowd  began  to  sway  and  struggle,  and 
voices  shouted,  "It's  him!  it's  him!  he's  coming 
himself!" 

"Who?    Who?"  from  twenty  voices. 

"Muff  Potter!" 

"Hallo,  he's  stopped! — Look  out,  he's  turning! 
Don't  let  him  get  away!" 

People  in  the  branches  of  the  trees  over  Tom's 
head  said  he  wasn't  trying  to  get  away — he  only 
looked  doubtful  and  perplexed. 

"Infernal  impudence!"  said  a  bystander;  "wanted 
to  come  and  take  a  quiet  look  at  his  work,  I  reckon 
— didn't  expect  any  company." 

The  crowd  fell  apart,  now,  and  the  Sheriff  came 

99 


MARK    TWAIN 

through,  ostentatiously  leading  Potter  by  the  arm. 
The  poor  fellow's  face  was  haggard,  and  his  eyes 
showed  the  fear  that  was  upon  him.  When  he  stood 
before  the  murdered  man,  he  shook  as  with  a  palsy, 
and  he  put  his  face  in  his  hands  and  burst  into  tears 

"I  didn't  do  it,  friends,"  he  sobbed;  '"pon  my 
word  and  honor  I  never  done  it." 

"Who's  accused  you?"  shouted  a  voice. 

This  shot  seemed  to  carry  home.  Potter  lifted 
his  face  and  looked  around  him  with  a  pathetic 
hopelessness  in  his  eyes.  He  saw  Injun  Joe,  and 
exclaimed: 

4 'Oh,  Injun  Joe,  you  promised  me  you'd  never— 

"Is  that  your  knife?"  and  it  was  thrust  before 
him  by  the  Sheriff. 

Potter  would  have  fallen  if  they  had  not  caught 
him  and  eased  him  to  the  ground.  Then  he  said: 

"Something  told  me  't  if  I  didn't  come  back  and 
get — "  .  He  shuddered;  then  waved  his  nerveless 
hand  with  a  vanquished  gesture  and  said,  "Tell 
'em,  Joe,  tell  'em — it  ain't  any  use  any  more." 

Then  Huckleberry  and  Tom  stood  dumb  and 
staring,  and  heard  the  stony-hearted  liar  reel  off  his 
serene  statement,  they  expecting  every  moment  that 
the  clear  sky  would  deliver  God's  lightnings  upon 
his  head,  and  wondering  to  see  how  long  the  stroke 
was  delayed.  And  when  he  had  finished  and  still 
stood  alive  and  whole,  their  wavering  impulse  to 
break  their  oath  and  save  the  poor  betrayed  prison 
er's  life  faded  and  vanished  away,  for  plainly  this  mis 
creant  had  sold  himself  to  Satan  and  it  would  be  fatal 
to  meddle  with  the  property  of  such  a  power  as  that. 

100 


ADVENTURES    OF    TQM!  SA 

"Why  didn't  you  leave?  What  did  you  want  to 
come  here  for?"  somebody  said. 

"I  couldn't  help  it— I  couldn't  help  it,"  Potter 
moaned.  "I  wanted  to  run  away,  but  I  couldn't 
seem  to  come  anywhere  but  here."  And  he  fell  to 
sobbing  again. 

Injun  Joe  repeated  his  statement,  just  as  calmly, 
a  few  minutes  afterward  on  the  inquest,  under  oath; 
and  the  boys,  seeing  that  the  lightnings  were  still 
withheld,  were  confirmed  in  their  belief  that  Joe  had 
sold  himself  to  the  devil.  He  was  now  become,  to 
them,  the  most  balefully  interesting  object  they  had 
ever  looked  upon,  and  they  could  not  take  their 
fascinated  eyes  from  his  face. 

They  inwardly  resolved  to  watch  him,  nights, 
when  opportunity  should  offer,  in  the  hope  of 
getting  a  glimpse  of  his  dread  master. 

Injun  Joe  helped  to  raise  the  body  of  the  murdered 
man  and  put  it  in  a  wagon  for  removal;  and  it 
was  whispered  through  the  shuddering  crowd  that 
the  wound  bled  a  little !  The  boys  thought  that  this 
happy  circumstance  would  turn  suspicion  in  the 
right  direction ;  but  they  were  disappointed,  for  more 
than  one  villager  remarked: 

"It  was  within  three  feet  of  Muff  Potter  when 
it  done  it." 

Tom's  fearful  secret  and  gnawing  conscience  dis 
turbed  his  sleep  for  as  much  as  a  week  after  this; 
and  at  breakfast  one  morning  Sid  said: 

"Tom,  you  pitch  around  and  talk  in  your  sleep 
so  much  that  you  keep  me  awake  half  the  time." 

Tom  blanched  and  dropped  his  eyes. 

8  101 


TWAIN 


"It's  a  bad  sign,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  gravely. 
"What  you  got  on  your  mind,  Tom?" 

"Nothing.  Nothing  't  I  know  of."  But  the 
boy's  hand  shook  so  that  he  spilled  his  coffee. 

"And  you  do  talk  such  stuff,"  Sid  said.  "Last 
night  you  said  'it's  blood,  it's  blood,  that's  what 
it  is ! '  You  said  that  over  and  over.  And  you  said, 
'  Don't  torment  me  so— 1 11  tell ! '  Tell  what?  What 
is  it  you'll  tell?" 

Everything  was  swimming  before  Tom.  There  is 
no  telling  what  might  have  happened,  now,  but 
luckily  the  concern  passed  out  of  Aunt  Polly's  face 
and  she  came  to  Tom's  relief  without  knowing  it. 
She  said: 

"Sho!  It's  that  dreadful  murder.  I  dream  about 
it  most  every  night  myself.  Sometimes  I  dream  it's 
me  that  done  it." 

Mary  said  she  had  been  affected  much  the  same 
way.  Sid  seemed  satisfied.  Tom  got  out  of  the 
presence  as  quick  as  he  plausibly  could,  and  after 
that  he  complained  of  toothache  for  a  week,  and  tied 
up  his  jaws  every  night.  He  never  knew  that  Sid 
lay  nightly  watching,  and  frequently  slipped  the 
bandage  free  and  then  leaned  on  his  elbow  listening 
a  good  while  at  a  time,  and  afterward  slipped  the 
bandage  back  to  its  place  again.  Tom's  distress  of 
mind  wore  off  gradually  and  the  toothache  grew  irk 
some  and  was  discarded.  If  Sid  really  managed  to 
make  anything  out  of  Tom's  disjointed  mutterings, 
he  kept  it  to  himself. 

It  seemed  to  Tom  that  his  schoolmates  never  would 
get  done  holding  inquests  on  dead  cats,  and  thus 

102 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

keeping  his  trouble  present  to  his  mind.  Sid  noticed 
that  Tom  never  was  coroner  at  one  of  these  in 
quiries,  though  it  had  been  his  habit  to  take  the  lead 
in  all  new  enterprises;  he  noticed,  too,  that  Tom 
never  acted  as  a  witness — and  that  was  strange ;  and 
Sid  did  not  overlook  the  fact  that  Tom  even  showed 
a  marked  aversion  to  these  inquests,  and  always 
avoided  them  when  he  could.  Sid  marveled,  but 
said  nothing.  However,  even  inquests  went  out  of 
vogue  at  last,  and  ceased  to  torture  Tom's  conscience. 

Every  day  or  two,  during  this  time  of  sorrow,  Tom 
watched  his  opportunity  and  went  to  the  little  grated 
jail- window  and  smuggled  such  small  comforts 
through  to  the  "murderer"  as  he  could  get  hold  of. 
The  jail  was  a  trifling  lijbtle  brick  den  that  stood  in  a 
marsh  at  the  edge  of  the  village,  and  no  guards  were 
afforded  for  it ;  indeed  it  was  seldom  occupied.  These 
offerings  greatly  helped  to  ease  Tom's  conscience. 

The  villagers  had  a  strong  desire  to  tar  and  feather 
Injun  Joe  and  ride  him  on  a  rail,  for  body-snatching, 
but  so  formidable  was  his  character  that  nobody 
could  be  found  who  was  willing  to  take  the  lead  in  the 
matter,  so  it  was  dropped.  He  had  been  careful  to 
begin  both  of  his  inquest  statements  with  the  fight, 
without  confessing  the  grave-robbery  that  preceded 
it ;  therefore  it  was  deemed  wisest  not  to  try  the  case 
in  the  courts  at  present. 


CHAPTER  XII 

ONE  of  the  reasons  why  Tom's  mind  had  drifted 
away  from  its  secret  troubles  was,  that  it  had 
found  a  new  and  weighty  matter  to  interest  itself 
about.  Becky  Thatcher  had  stopped  coming  to 
school.  Tom  had  struggled  with  his  pride  a  few 
days,  and  tried  to  "whistle  her  down  the  wind," 
but  failed.  He  began  to  find  himself  hanging  around 
her  father's  house,  nights,  and  feeling  very  miserable. 
She  was  ill.  What  if  she  should  die!  There  was 
distraction  in  the  thought.  He  no  longer  took  an 
interest  in  war,  nor  even  in  piracy.  The  charm  of 
life  was  gone ;  there  was  nothing  but  dreariness  left. 
He  put  his  hoop  away,  and  his  bat;  there  was  no 
joy  in  them  any  more.  His  aunt  was  concerned. 
She  began  to  try  all  manner  of  remedies  on  him. 
She  was  one  of  those  people  who  are  infatuated  with 
patent  medicines  and  all  new-fangled  methods  of  pro 
ducing  health  or  mending  it.  She  was  an  inveterate 
experimenter  in  these  things.  When  something 
fresh  in  this  line  came  out  she  was  in  a  fever,  right 
away,  to  try  it;  not  on  herself,  for  she  was  never 
ailing,  but  on  anybody  else  that  came  handy.  She 
was  a  subscriber  for  all  the  "Health"  periodicals 
and  phrenological  frauds;  and  the  solemn  ignorance 
they  were  inflated  with  was  breath  to  her  nostrils. 
All  the  "rot"  they  contained  about  ventilation,  and 

104 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

how  to  go  to  bed,  and  how  to  get  up,  and  what  to 
eat,  and  what  to  drink,  and  how  much  exercise  to 
take,  and  what  frame  of  mind  to  keep  one's  self  in, 
and  what  sort  of  clothing  to  wear,  was  all  gospel  to 
her,  and  she  never  observed  that  her  health-journals 
of  the  current  month  customarily  upset  everything 
they  had  recommended  the  month  before.  /  She  was 
as  simple-hearted  and  honest  as  the  day  was  long, 
and  so  she  was  an  easy  victim.  She  gathered  to 
gether  her  quack  periodicals  and  her  quack  medicines, 
and  thus  armed  with  death,  went  about  on  her  pale 
horse,  metaphorically  speaking,  with  "hell  following 
after."  But  she  never  suspected  that  she  was  not  an 
angel  of  healing  and  the  balm  of  Gilead  in  disguise, 
to  the  suffering  neighbors. 

The  water  treatment  was  new,  now,  and  Tom's  low 
condition  was  a  windfall  to  her.  She  had  him  out  at 
daylight  every  morning,  stood  him  up  in  the  wood 
shed  and  drowned  him  with  a  deluge  of  cold  water; 
then  she  scrubbed  him  down  with  a  towel  like  a  file, 
and  so  brought  him  to;  then  she  rolled  him  up  in 
a  wet  sheet  and  put  him  away  under  blankets  till  she 
sweated  his  soul  clean  and  "the  yellow  stains  of  it 
came  through  his  pores" — as  Tom  said. 

Yet  notwithstanding  all  this,  the  boy  'grew  more 
and  more  melancholy  and  pale  and  dejected.  She 
added  hot  baths,  sitz  baths,  shower  baths,  and 
plunges.  The  boy  remained  as  dismal  as  a  hearse. 
She  began  to  assist  the  water  with  a  slim  oatmeal 
diet  and  blister-plasters.  She  calculated  his  capacity 
as  she  would  a  jug's,  and  filled  him  up  every  day 
with  quack  cure-alls. 

105 


MARK    TWAIN 

Tom  had  become  indifferent  to  persecution  by  this 
time.  This  phase  filled  the  old  lady's  heart  with 
consternation.  This  indifference  must  be  broken  up 
at  any  cost.  Now  she  heard  of  Pain-killer  for  the 
first  time.  She  ordered  a  lot  at  once.  She  tasted 
it  and  was  filled  with  gratitude.  It  was  simply  fire 
in  a  liquid  form.  She  dropped  the  water  treatment 
and  everything  else,  and  pinned  her  faith  to  Pain 
killer.  She  gave  Tom  a  teaspoonful  and  watched 
with  the  deepest  anxiety  for  the  result.  Her 
troubles  were  instantly  at  rest,  her  soul  at  peace 
again;  for  the  "indifference"  was  broken  up.  The 
boy  could  not  have  shown  a  wilder,  heartier  interest 
if  she  had  built  a  fire  under  him. 

Tom  felt  that  it  was  time  to  wake  up ;  this  sort  of 
life  might  be  romantic  enough,  in  his  blighted  con 
dition,  but  it  was  getting  to  have  too  little  sentiment 
and  too  much  distracting  variety  about  it.  So  he 
thought  over  various  plans  for  relief,  and  finally  hit 
upon  that  of  professing  to  be  fond  of  Pain-killer. 
He  asked  for  it  so  often  that  he  became  a  nuisance, 
and  his  aunt  ended  by  telling  him  to  help  himself 
and  quit  bothering  her.  If  it  had  been  Sid,  she 
would  have  had  no  misgivings  to  alloy  her  delight; 
but  since  it  was  Tom,  she  watched  the  bottle  clan 
destinely.  She  found  that  the  medicine  did 'really 
diminish,  but  it  did  not  occur  to  her  that  the  boy 
was  mending  the  health  of  a  crack  in  the  sitting- 
room  floor  with  it. 

One  day  Tom  was  in  the  act  of  dosing  the  crack  when 
his  aunt's  yellow  cat  came  along,  purring,  eying  the  tea 
spoon  avariciously,  and  begging  for  a  taste.  Tom  said : 

106 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"Don't  ask  for  it  unless  you  want  it,  Peter." 

But  Peter  signified  that  he  did  want  it. 

"You  better  make  sure." 

Peter  was  sure. 

"Now  you've  asked  for  it,  and  I'll  give  it  to  you, 
because  there  ain't  anything  mean  about  me;  but 
if  you  find  you  don't  like  it,  you  mustn't  blame  any 
body  but  your  own  self." 

Peter  was  agreeable.  So  Tom  pried  his  mouth 
open  and  poured  down  the  Pain-killer.  Peter  sprang 
a  couple  of  yards  in  the  air,  and  then  delivered  a 
war-whoop  and  set  off  round  and  round  the  room, 
banging  against  furniture,  upsetting  flower-pots,  and 
making  general  havoc.  Next  he  rose  on  his  hind 
feet  and  pranced  around,  in  a  frenzy  of  enjoyment, 
with  his  head  over  his  shoulder  and  his  voice  pro 
claiming  his  unappeasable  happiness.  Then  he  went 
tearing  around  the  house  again  spreading  chaos  and 
destruction  in  his  path.  Aunt  Polly  entered  in  time 
to  see  him  throw  a  few  double  somersets,  deliver  a  final 
mighty  hurrah,  and  sail  through  the  open  window,  car 
rying  the  rest  of  the  flower-pots  with  him .  The  old  lady 
stood  petrified  with  astonishment,  peering  over  her 
glasses;  Tom  lay  on  the  floor  expiring  with  laughter.  ^/ 

"Tom,  what  on  earth  ails  that  cat?" 

"J  don't  know,  aunt,"  gasped  the  boy. 

"Why,  I  never  see  anything  like  it.  What  did 
make  him  act  so?" 

"  'Deed  I  don't  know,  Aunt  Polly;  cats  always  act 
so  when  they're  having  a  good  time." 

"They  do,  do  they?"  There  was  something  in 
the  tone  that  made  Tom  apprehensive. 

107 


MARK     TWAIN 

"Yes'm.     That  is,  I  believe  they  do." 

"You  do?" 

"Yes'm." 

The  old  lady  was  bending  down,  Tom  watching, 
with  interest  emphasized  by  anxiety.  Too  late  he 
divined  her  "drift."  The  handle  of  the  telltale 
teaspoon  was  visible  under  the  bed-valance.  Aunt 
Polly  took  it,  held  it  up.  Tom  winced,  and  dropped 
his  eyes.  Aunt  Polly  raised  him  by  the  usual 
handle — his  ear — and  cracked  his  'head  soundly 
with  her  thimble. 

"Now,  sir,  what  did  you  want  to  treat  that  poor 
dumb  beast  so  for?" 

' '  I  done  it  out  of  pity  for  him — because  he  hadn't 
any  aunt." 

"Hadn't  any  aunt! — you  numskull.  What  has 
that  got  to  do  with  it?" 

* '  Heaps.  Because  if  he'd  'a'  had  one  she'd  'a'  burnt 
him  out  [herself!  She'd  'a'  roasted  his  bowels  out 
of  him  'thout  any  more  feeling  than  if  he  was  a 
human!" 

Aunt  Polly  felt  a  sudden  pang  of  remorse.  This 
was  putting  the  thing  in  a  new  light;  what  was 
cruelty  to  a  cat  might  be  cruelty  to  a  boy,  too.  She 
began  to  soften;  she  felt  sorry.  Her  eyes  watered 
a  little,  and  she  put  her  hand  on  Tom's  head  and 
said  gently: 

"I  was  meaning  for  the  best,  Tom.  And,  Tom, 
it  did  do  you  good." 

Tom  looked  up  in  her  face  with  just  a  perceptible 
twinkle  peeping  through  his  gravity: 

"I  know  you  was  meaning  for  the  best,  auntie, 

1 08 


ADVENTURES     OF    TOM     SAWYER 

and  so  was  I  with  Peter.  It  done  him  good,  too.  I 
never  see  him  get  around  so  since — 

"Oh,  go  'long  with  you,  Tom,  before  you  aggra 
vate  me  again.  And  you  try  and  see  if  you  can't 
be  a  good  boy,  for  once,  and  you  needn't  take  any 
more  medicine." 

Tom  reached  school  ahead  of  time.  It  was  noticed 
that  this  strange  thing  had  been  occurring  every  day 
latterly.  And  now,  as  usual  of  late,  he  hung  about 
the  gate  of  the  schoolyard  instead  of  playing  with  his 
comrades.  He  was  sick,  he  said,  and  he  looked  it. 
He  tried  to  seem  to  be  looking  everywhere  but 
whither  he  really  was  looking — down  the  road.  Pres 
ently  Jeff  Thatcher  hove  in  sight,  and  Tom's  face 
lighted;  he  gazed  a  moment,  and  then  turned  sor 
rowfully  away.  When  Jeff  arrived,  Tom  accosted 
him,  and  "led  up"  warily  to  opportunities  for  re 
mark  about  Becky,  but  the  giddy  lad  never  could  see 
the  bait.  Tom  watched  and  watched,  hoping  when 
ever  a  frisking  frock  came  in  sight,  and  hating  the 
owner  of  it  as  soon  as  he  saw  she  was  not  the  right 
one.  At  last  frocks  ceased  to  appear,  and  he  drop 
ped  hopelessly  into  the  dumps;  he  entered  the 
empty  school-house  and  sat  down  to  suffer.  Then 
one  more  frock  passed  in  at  the  gate,  and  Tom's 
heart  gave  a  great  bound.  The  next  instant  he  was 
out,  and  "going  on"  like  an  Indian;  yelling,  laugh 
ing,  chasing  boys,  jumping  over  the  fence  at  risk 
of  life  and  limb,  throwing  hand-springs,  standing  on 
his  head — doing  all  the  heroic  things  he  could  con 
ceive  of,  and  keeping  a  furtive  eye  out,  all  the  while, 
to  see  if  Becky  Thatcher  was  noticing.  But  she 

109 


MARK    TWAIN 

seemed  to  be  unconscious  of  it  all ;  she  never  looked. 
Could  it  be  possible  that  she  was  not  aware  that  he 
was  there?  He  carried  his  exploits  to  her  immediate 
vicinity;  came  war- whooping  around,  snatched  a 
boy's  cap,  hurled  it  to  the  roof  of  the  school-house, 
broke  through  a  group  of  boys,  tumbling  them  in 
every  direction,  and  fell  sprawling,  himself,  under 
Becky's  nose,  almost  upsetting  her — and  she  turned, 
with  her  nose  in  the  air,  and  he  heard  her  say:  "Mf ! 
some  people  think  they're  mighty  smart — always 
showing  off!" 

Tom's  cheeks  burned.     He  gathered  himself  up 
and  sneaked  off,  crushed  and  crestfallen. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

POM'S  mind  was  made  up  now.  He  was  gloomy 
1  and  desperate.  He  was  a  forsaken,  friendless 
boy,  he  said;  nobody  loved  him;  when  they  found 
out  what  they  had  driven  him  to,  perhaps  they 
would  be  sorry;  he  had  tried  to  do  right  and  get 
along,  but  they  would  not  let  him;  since  nothing 
would  do  them  but  to  be  rid  of  him,  let  it  be  so; 
and  let  them  blame  him  for  the  consequences — why 
shouldn't  they?  What  right  had  the  friendless  to 
complain?  Yes,  they  had  forced  him  to  it  at  last: 
he  would  lead  a  life  of  crime.  There  was  no  choice. 

By  this  time  he  was  far  down  Meadow  Lane,  and 
the  bell  for  school  to  "take  up"  tinkled  faintly 
upon  his  ear.  He  sobbed,  now,  to  think  he  should 
never,  never  hear  that  old  familiar  sound  any  more 
—it  was  very  hard,  but  it  was  forced  on  him;  since 
he  was  driven  out  into  the  cold  world,  he  must 
submit — but  he  forgave  them.  Then  the  sobs  came 
thick  and  fast. 

Just  at  this  point  he  met  his  soul's  sworn  comrade, 
Joe  Harper — hard-eyed,  and  with  evidently  a  great 
and  dismal  purpose  in  his  heart.  Plainly  here  were 
"two  souls  with  but  a  single  thought."  Tom, 
wiping  his  eyes  with  his  sleeve,  began  to  blubber  out 
something  about  a  resolution  to  escape  from  hard 

in 


MARK    TWAIN 

usage  and  lack  of  sympathy  at  home  by  roam 
ing  abroad  into  the  great  world  never  to  return; 
and  ended  by  hoping  that  Joe  would  not  forget 
him. 

But  it  transpired  that  this  was  a  request  which 
Joe  had  just  been  going  to  make  of  Tom,  and  had 
come  to  hunt  him  up  for  that  purpose.  His  mother 
had  whipped  him  for  drinking  some  cream  which  he 
had  never  tasted  and  knew  nothing  about;  it  was 
plain  that  she  was  tired  of  him  and  wished  him  to 
go;  if  she  felt  that  way,  there  was  nothing  for  him 
to  do  but  succumb;  he  hoped  she  would  be  happy, 
and  never  regret  having  driven  her  poor  boy  out 
into  the  unfeeling  world  to  suffer  and  die. 

As  the  two  boys  walked  sorrowing  along,  they 
made  a  new  compact  to  stand  by  each  other  and 
be  brothers  and  never  separate  till  death  relieved 
them  of  their  troubles.  Then  they  began  to  lay 
their  plans.  Joe  was  for  being  a  hermit,  and  living 
on  crusts  in  a  remote  cave,  and  dying,  some  time, 
of  cold  and  want  and  grief;  but  after  listening  to 
Tom,  he  conceded  that  there  were  some  conspicuous 
advantages  about  a  life  of  crime,  and  so  he  con 
sented  to  be  a  pirate. 

Three  miles  below  St.  Petersburg,  at  a  point  where 
the  Mississippi  River  was  a  trifle  over  a  mile  wide, 
there  was  a  long,  narrow,  wooded  island,  with  a 
shallow  bar  at  the  head  of  it,  and  this  offered  well 
as  a  rendezvous.  It  was  not  inhabited;  it  lay  far 
over  toward  the  further  shore,  abreast  a  dense  and 
almost  ,  wholly  unpeopled  forest.  So  Jackson's 
Island  was  chosen.  Who  were  to  be  the  subjects  of 

112 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

their  piracies,  was  a  matter  that  did  not  occur  to 
them.  Then  they  hunted  up  Huckleberry  Finn,  and 
he  joined  them  promptly,  for  all  careers  were  one 
to  him;  he  was  indifferent.  They  presently  sepa 
rated  to  meet  at  a  lonely  spot  on  the  river-bank  two 
miles  above  the  village  at  the  favorite  hour — which 
was  midnight.  There  was  a  small  log  raft  there 
which  they  meant  to  capture.  Each  would  bring 
hooks  and  lines,  and  such  provision  as  he  could  steal 
in  the  most  dark  and  mysterious  way — as  became 
outlaws.  And  before  the  afternoon  was  done,  they 
had  all  managed  to  enjoy  the  sweet  glory  of  spread 
ing  the  fact  that  pretty  soon  the  town  would  "hear 
something."  All  who  got  this  vague  hint  were 
cautioned  to  "be  mum  and  wait." 

About  midnight  Tom  arrived  with  a  boiled  ham 
and  a  few  trifles,  and  stopped  in  a  dense  under 
growth  on  a  small  bluff  overlooking  the  meeting- 
place.  It  was  starlight,  and  very  still.  The  mighty 
river  lay  like  an  ocean  at  rest.  Tom  listened  a 
moment,  but  no  sound  disturbed  the  quiet.  Then 
he  gave  a  low,  distinct  whistle.  It  was  answered 
from  under  the  bluff.  Tom  whistled  twice  more; 
these  signals  were  answered  in  the  same  way.  Then 
a  guarded  voice  said: 

1  'Who  goes  there?" 

"Tom  Sawyer,  the  Black  Avenger  of  the  Spanish 
Main.  Name  your  names." 

"Huck  Finn  the  Red-Handed,  and  Joe  Harper 
the  Terror  of  the  Seas."  Tom  had  furnished  these 
titles,  from  his  favorite  literature. 

"'Tis  well.     Give  the  countersign." 

"3 


MARK    TWAIN 

Two  hoarse  whispers  delivered  the  same  awful 
word  simultaneously  to  the  brooding  night: 

"BLOOD!" 

Then  Tom  tumbled  his  ham  over  the  bluff  and 
let  himself  down  after  it,  tearing  both  skin  and 
clothes  to  some  extent  in  the  effort.  There  was  an 
easy,  comfortable  path  along  the  shore  under  the 
bluff,  but  it  lacked  the  advantages  of  difficulty  and 
danger  so  valued  by  a  pirate. 

The  Terror  of  the  Seas  had  brought  a  side  of 
bacon,  and  had  about  worn  himself  out  with  getting 
it  there.  Finn  the  Red-Handed  had  stolen  a  skillet 
and  a  quantity  of  half-cured  leaf  tobacco,  and  had 
also  brought  a  few  corn-cobs  to  make  pipes  with. 
But  none  of  the  pirates  smoked  or  " chewed"  but 
himself.  The  Black  Avenger  of  the  Spanish  Main 
said  it  would  never  do  to  start  without  some  fire. 
That  was  a  wise  thought;  matches  were  hardly 
known  there  in  that  day.  They  saw  a  fire  smolder 
ing  upon  a  great  raft  a  hundred  yards  above,  and 
they  went  stealthily  thither  and  helped  themselves  to 
a  chunk.  They  made  an  imposing  adventure  of  it, 
saying,  "Hist!"  every  now  and  then,  and  suddenly 
halting  with  finger  on  lip;  moving  with  hands  on 
imaginary  dagger-hilts;  and  giving  orders  in  dismal 
whispers  that  if  "the  foe"  stirred,  to  "let  him  have 
it  to  the  hilt,"  because  "dead  men  tell  no  tales." 
They  knew  well  enough  that  the  raftsmen  were  all 
down  at  the  village  laying  in  stores  or  having  a  spree, 
but  still  that  was  no  excuse  for  their  conducting  this 
thing  in  an  unpiratical  way. 

They  shoved  off,  presently,  Tom  in  command, 

114 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

Huck  at  the  after  oar  and  Joe  at  the  forward.  Tom 
stood  amidships,  gloomy -browed,  and  with  folded 
arms,  and  gave  his  orders  in  a  low,  stern  whisper: 

"Luff,  and  bring  her  to  the  wind!" 

"Aye-aye,  sir!" 

"Steady,  steady-y-y-y !" 

"Steady  it  is,  sir!" 

"Let  her  go  off  a  point!" 

"Point  it  is,  sir!" 

As  the  boys  steadily  and  monotonously  drove  the 
raft  toward  midstream  it  was  no  doubt  understood 
that  these  orders  were  given  only  for  "style,"  and 
were  not  intended  to  mean  anything  in  particular. 

"What  sail's  she  carrying?" 

"Courses,  tops'ls,  and  flying- jib,  sir." 

"Send  the  r'yals  up!  Lay  out  aloft,  there,  half 
a  dozen  of  ye — foretopmaststunsl!  Lively,  now!" 

"Aye-aye,  sir!" 

"Shake  out  that  maintogalans'l!  Sheets  and 
braces!  Now,  my  hearties!" 

"Aye-aye,  sir!" 

" Hellum-a-lee — hard  a  port!  Stand  by  to  meet 
her  when  she  comes!  Port,  port!  Now,  men! 
With  a  will !  Stead-y-y-y !' ' 

"Steady  it  is,  sir!" 

The  raft  drew  beyond  the  middle  of  the  river;  the 
boys  pointed  her  head  right,  and  then  lay  on  their 
oars.  The  river  was  not  high,  so  there  was  not 
more  than  a  two  or  three  mile  current.  Hardly  a 
word  was  said  during  the  next  three-quarters  of  an 
hour.  Now  the  raft  was  passing  before  the  distant 
town.  Two  or  three  glimmering  lights  showed 


MARK     TWAIN 

where  it  lay,  peacefully  sleeping,  beyond  the  vague 
vast  sweep  of  star-gemmed  water,  unconscious  of 
the  tremendous  event  that  was  happening.  The 
Black  Avenger  stood  still  with  folded  arms,  "  look 
ing  his  last"  upon  the  scene  of  his  former  joys  and 
his  later  sufferings,  and  wishing  "she"  could  see 
him  now,  abroad  on  the  wild  sea,  facing  peril  and 
death  with  dauntless  heart,  going  to  his  doom  with  a 
grim  smile  on  his  lips.  It  was  but  a  small  strain  on 
his  imagination  to  remove  Jackson's  Island  beyond 
eye-shot  of  the  village,  and  so  he  "looked  his  last'* 
with  a  broken  and  satisfied  heart.  The  other  pirates 
were  looking  their  last,  too;  and  they  all  looked  so 
long  that  they  came  near  letting  the  current  drift 
them  out  of  the  range  of  the  island.  But  they  dis 
covered  the  danger  in  time,  and  made  shift  to  avert 
it.  About  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  raft 
grounded  on  the  bar  two  hundred  yards  above  the 
head  of  the  island,  and  they  waded  back  and  forth 
until  they  had  landed  their  freight.  Part  of  the  little 
raft's  belongings  consisted  of  an  old  sail,  and  this 
they  spread  over  a  nook  in  the  bushes  for  a  tent  to 
shelter  their  provisions;  but  they  themselves  would 
sleep  in  the  open  air  in  good  weather,  as  .became 
outlaws. 

They  built  a  fire  against  the  side  of  a  great  log 
twenty  or  thirty  steps  within  the  somber  depths  of 
the  forest,  and  then  cooked  some  bacon  in  the  frying- 
pan  for  supper,  and  used  up  half  of  the  corn  "pone" 
stock  they  had  brought.  It  seemed  glorious  sport 
to  be  feasting  in  that  wild  free  way  in  the  virgin 
forest  of  an  unexplored  and  uninhabited  island,  far 

116 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

from  the  haunts  of  men,  and  they  said  they  never 
would  return  to  civilization.  The  climbing  fire  lit 
up  their  faces  and  threw  its  ruddy  glare  upon  the 
pillared  tree-trunks  of  their  forest  temple,  and  upon 
the  varnished  foliage  and  festooning  vines. 

When  the  last  crisp  slice  of  bacon  was  gone,  and 
the  last  allowance  of  corn  pone  devoured,  the  boys 
stretched  themselves  out  on  the  grass,  filled  with 
contentment.  They  could  have  found  a  cooler 
place,  but  they  would  not  deny  themselves  such  a 
romantic  feature  as  the  roasting  camp-fire. 

"Ain't  it  gay?"  said  Joe. 

"It's  nuts!"  said  Tom.  "What  would  the  boys 
say  if  they  could  see  us?'* 

"Say?  Well,  they'd  just  die  to  be  here — hey, 
Hucky!" 

"I  reckon  so,"  said  Huckleberry;  "anyways, 
I'm  suited.  I  don't  want  nothing  better'n  this.  I 
don't  ever  get  enough  to  eat,  gen'ally — and  here 
they  can't  come  and  pick  at  a  feller  and  bullyrag 
him  so." 

"It's  just  the  life  for  me,"  said  Tom.  "You 
don't  have  to  get  up,  mornings,  and  you  don't  have 
to  go  to  school,  and  wash,  and  all  that  blame  fool 
ishness.  You  see  a  pirate  don't  have  to  do  any 
thing,  Joe,  when  he's  ashore,  but  a  hermit  he  has  to 
be  praying  considerable,  and  then  he  don't  have  any 
fun,  anyway,  all  by  himself  that  way." 

"Oh,  yes,  that's  so,"  said  Joe,  "but  I  hadn't 
thought  much  about  it,  you  know.  I'd  a  good  deal 
rather  be  a  pirate,  now  that  I've  tried  it." 

"You  see,"  said  Tom,   "people  don't  go  much 

9  117 


MARK     TWAIN 

on  hermits,  nowadays,  like  they  used  to  in  old  times, 
but  a  pirate's  always  respected.  And  a  hermit's 
got  to  sleep  on  the  hardest  place  he  can  find,  and 
put  sackcloth  and  ashes  on  his  head,  and  stand  out 
in  the  rain,  and — " 

"What  does  he  put  sackcloth  and  ashes  on  his 
head  for?"  inquired  Huck. 

* '  I  dono.  But  they've  got  to  do  it.  Hermits  always 
do.  You'd  have  to  do  that  if  you  was  a  hermit." 

"Dern'd  if  I  would,"  said  Huck. 

"Well,  what  would  you  do?" 

"I  dunno.     But  I  wouldn't  do  that." 

"Why,  Huck,  you'd  have  to.  How'd  you  get 
around  it?" 

"Why,  I  just  wouldn't  stand  it.     I'd  run  away." 

"Run  away!  Well,  you  would  be  a  nice  old 
slouch  of  a  hermit.  You'd  be  a  disgrace." 

The  Red-Handed  made  no  response,  being  better 
employed.  He  had  finished  gouging  out  a  cob,  and 
now  he  fitted  a  weed  stem  to  it,  loaded  it  with 
tobacco,  and  was  pressing  a  coal  to  the  charge  and 
blowing  a  cloud  of  fragrant  smoke — he  was  in  the 
full  bloom  of  luxurious  contentment.  The  other 
pirates  envied  him  this  majestic  vice,  and  secretly 
resolved  to  acquire  it  shortly.  Presently  Huck  said : 

"What  does  pirates  have  to  do?" 

Tom  said: 

"Oh,  they  have  just  a  bully  time — take  ships 
and  burn  them,  and  get  the  money  and  bury  it  in 
awful  places  in  their  island  where  there's  ghosts  and 
things  to  watch  it,  and  kill  everybody  in  the  ships — 
make  'em  walk  a  plank." 

118 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

4 'And  they  carry  the  women  to  the  island,"  said 
Joe;  "they  don't  kill  the  women." 

"No,"  assented  Tom,  "they  don't  kill  the  women 
— they're  too  noble.  And  the  women's  always 
beautiful,  too." 

"And  don't  they  wear  the  bulliest  clothes!  Oh, 
no!  All  gold  and  silver  and  di'monds,"  said  Joe, 
with  enthusiasm. 

"Who?"  said  Huck. 

"Why,  the  pirates." 

Huck  scanned  his  own  clothing  forlornly. 

"I  reckon  I  ain't  dressed  fatten  for  a  pirate,"  said 
he,  with  a  regretful  pathos  in  his  voice;  "but  I 
ain't  got  none  but  these." 

But  the  other  boys  told  him  the  fine  clothes  would 
come  fast  enough,  after  they  should  have  begun  their 
adventures.  They  made  him  understand  that  his 
poor  rags  would  do  to  begin  with,  though  it  was 
customary  for  wealthy  pirates  to  start  with  a  proper 
wardrobe. 

Gradually  their  talk  died  out  and  drowsiness  be 
gan  to  steal  upon  the  eyelids  of  the  little  waifs.  The 
pipe  dropped  from  the  fingers  of  the  Red-Handed, 
and  he  slept  the  sleep  of  the  conscience-free  and  the 
weary.  The  Terror  of  the  Seas  and  the  Black 
Avenger  of  the  Spanish  Main  had  more  difficulty  in 
getting  to  sleep.  They  said  their  prayers  inwardly, 
and  lying  down,  since  there  was  nobody  there  with 
authority  to  make  them  kneel  and  recite  aloud;  in 
truth,  they  had  a  mind  not  to  say  them  at  all,  but 
they  were  afraid  to  proceed  to  such  lengths  at  that, 
lest  they  might  call  down  a  sudden  and  special 

119 


MARK    TWAIN 

thunderbolt  from  Heaven.  Then  at  once  they 
reached  and  hovered  upon  the  imminent  verge  of 
sleep — but  an  intruder  came,  now,  that  would  not 
"down."  It  was  conscience.  They  began  to  feel 
a  vague  fear  that  they  had  been  doing  wrong  to  run 
away;  and  next  they  thought  of  the  stolen  meat, 
and  then  the  real  torture  came.  They  tried  to  argue 
it  away  by  reminding  conscience  that  they  had  pur 
loined  sweetmeats  and  apples  scores  of  times;  but 
conscience  was  not  to  be  appeased  by  such  thin 
plausibilities;  it  seemed  to  them,  in  the  end,  that 
there  was  no  getting  around  the  stubborn  fact  that 
taking  sweetmeats  was  only  "hooking,"  while  taking 
bacon  and  hams  and  such  valuables  was  plain  simple 
stealing — and  there  was  a  command  against  that  in 
the  Bible.  So  they  inwardly  resolved  that  so  long 
as  they  remained  in  the  business,  their  piracies 
should  not  again  be  sullied  with  the  crime  of  steal 
ing.  Then  conscience  granted  a  truce,  and  these 
curiously  inconsistent  pirates  fell  peacefully  to  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

WHEN  Tom  awoke  in  the  morning,  he  wondered 
where  he  was.  He  sat  up  and  rubbed  his  eyes 
and  looked  around.  Then  he  comprehended.  It 
was  the  cool  gray  dawn,  and  there  was  a  delicious 
sense  of  repose  and  peace  in  the  deep  pervading  calm 
and  silence  of  the  woods.  Not  a  leaf  stirred;  not  a 
sound  obtruded  upon  great  Nature's  meditation. 
Beaded  dewdrops  stood  upon  the  leaves  and  grasses. 
A  white  layer  of  ashes  covered  the  fire,  and  a  thin 
blue  breath  of  smoke  rose  straight  into  the  air.  Joe 
and  Huck  still  slept. 

Now,  far  away  in  the  woods  a  bird  called;  an 
other  answered;  presently  the  hammering  of  a  wood 
pecker  was  heard.  Gradually  the  cool  dim  gray  of 
the  morning  whitened,  and  as  gradually  sounds 
multiplied  and  life  manifested  itself.  The  marvel  of 
Nature  shaking  off  sleep  and  going  to  work  unfolded 
itself  to  the  musing  boy.  A  little  green  worm  came 
crawling  over  a  dewy  leaf,  lifting  two-t-  irds  of  his 
body  into  the  air  from  time  to  time  and  "sniffing 
around,"  then  proceeding  again — for  he  was  meas 
uring,  Tom  said;  and  when  the  worm  approached 
him,  of  its  own  accord,  he  sat  as  still  as  a  stone, 
with  his  hopes  rising  and  falling,  by  turns,  as  the 
creature  still  came  toward  him  or  seemed  inclined  to 

121 


MARK    TWAIN 

go  elsewhere;  and  when  at  last  it  considered  a  pain 
ful  moment  with  its  curved  body  in  the  air  and  then 
came  decisively  down  upon  Tom's  leg  and  began  a 
journey  over  him,  his  whole  heart  was  glad — for 
that  meant  that  he  was  going  to  have  a  new  suit  of 
clothes — without  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  a  gaudy 
piratical  uniform.  Now  a  procession  of  ants  ap 
peared,  from  nowhere  in  particular,  and  went  about 
their  labors;  one  struggled  manfully  by  with  a  dead 
spider  five  times  as  big  as  itself  in  its  arms,  and 
lugged  it  straight  up  a  tree-trunk.  A  brown  spotted 
lady-bug  climbed  the  dizzy  height  of  a  grass-blade, 
and  Tom  bent  down  close  to  it  and  said,  "Lady- 
bug,  lady-bug,  fly  away  home,  your  house  is  on 
fire,  your  children's  alone,"  and  she  took  wing  and 
went  off  to  see  about  it — which  did  not  surprise  the 
boy,  for  he  knew  of  old  that  this  insect  was  credu 
lous  about  conflagrations,  and  he  had  practised  upon 
its  simplicity  more  than  once.  A  tumblebug  came 
next,  heaving  sturdily  at  its  ball,  and  Tom  touched 
the  creature,  to  see  it  shut  its  legs  against  its  body 
and  pretend  to  be  dead.  The  birds  were  fairly 
rioting  by  this  time.  A  catbird,  the  Northern 
mocker,  lit  in  a  tree  over  Tom's  head,  and  trilled  out 
her  imitations  of  her  neighbors-  in  a  rapture  of 
enjoyment;  then  a  shrill  jay  swept  down,  a  flash  of 
blue  flame,  and  stopped  on  a  twig  almost  within  the 
boy's  reach,  cocked  his  head  to  one  side  and  eyed  the 
strangers  with  a  consuming  curiosity;  a  gray  squirrel 
and  a  big  fellow  of  the  "fox"  kind  came  scurrying 
along,  sitting  up  at  intervals  to  inspect  and  chatter 
at  the  boys,  for  the  wild  things  had  probably  never 

122 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

seen  a  human  being  before  and  scarcely  knew 
whether  to  be  afraid  or  not.  All  Nature  was  wide 
awake  and  stirring,  now;  long  lances  of  sunlight 
pierced  down  through  the  dense  foliage  far  and  near, 
and  a  few  butterflies  came  fluttering  upon  the  scene. 

Tom  stirred  up  the  other  pirates  and  they  all 
clattered  away  with  a  shout,  and  in  a  minute  or  two 
were  stripped  and  chasing  after  and  tumbling  over 
each  other  in  the  shallow  limpid  water  of  the  white 
sand-bar.  They  felt  no  longing  for  the  little  village 
sleeping  in  the  distance  beyond  the  majestic  waste  of 
water.  A  vagrant  current  or  a  slight  rise  in  the  river 
had  carried  off  their  raft,  but  this  only  gratified 
them,  since  its  going  was  something  like  burning 
the  bridge  between  them  and  civilization. 

They  came  back  to  camp  wonderfully  refreshed, 
glad-hearted,  and  ravenous;  and  they  soon  had  the 
camp-fire  blazing  up  again.  Huck  found  a  spring 
of  clear  cold  water  close  by,  and  the  boys  made 
cups  of  broad  oak  or  hickory  leaves,  and  felt  that 
water,  sweetened  with  such  a  wildwood  charm  as 
that,  would  be  a  good  enough  substitute  for  coffee. 
While  Joe  was  slicing  bacon  for  breakfast,  Tom  and 
Huck  asked  him  to  hold  on  a  minute;  they  stepped 
to  a  promising  nook  in  the  river-bank  and  threw  in 
their  lines;  almost  immediately  they  had  reward. 
Joe  had  not  had  time  to  get  impatient  before  they 
were  back  again  with  some  handsome  bass,  a  couple 
of  sun-perch,  and  a  small  catfish — provisions  enough 
for  quite  a  family.  They  fried  the  fish  with  the 
bacon,  and  were  astonished;  for  no  fish  had  ever 
Deemed  so  delicious  before.  They  did  not  know  that 

123 


MARK    TWAIN 

the  quicker  a  fresh-water  fish  is  on  the  fire  after  he 
is  caught  the  better  he  is;  and  they  reflected  little 
upon  what  a  sauce  open-air  sleeping,  open-air  exer 
cise,  bathing,  and  a  large  ingredient  of  hunger 
makes,  too. 

They  lay  around  in  the  shade,  after  breakfast, 
while  Huck  had  a  smoke,  and  then  went  off  through 
the  woods  on  an  exploring  expedition.  They 
tramped  gaily  along,  over  decaying  logs,  through 
tangled  underbrush,  among  solemn  monarchs  of  the 
forest,  hung  from  their  crowns  to  the  ground  with  a 
drooping  regalia  of  grapevines.  Now  and  then  they 
came  upon  snug  nooks ,  carpeted  with  grass  and 
jeweled  with  flowers. 

They  found  plenty  of  things  to  be  delighted  with, 
but  nothing  to  be  astonished  at.  They  discovered 
that  the  island  was  about  three  miles  long  and  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  wide,  and  that  the  shore  it  lay 
closest  to  was  only  separated  from  it  by  a  narrow 
channel  hardly  two  hundred  yards  wide.  They  took 
a  swim  about  every  hour,  so  it  was  close  upon  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon  when  they  got  back  to 
camp.  They  were  too  hungry  to  stop  to  fish,  but 
they  fared  sumptuously  upon  cold  ham,  and  then 
threw  themselves  down  in  the  shade  to  talk.  But 
the  talk  soon  began  to  drag,  and  then  died.  The 
stillness,  the  solemnity  that  brooded  in  the  woods, 
and  the  sense  of  loneliness,  began  to  tell  upon  the 
spirits  of  the  boys.  They  fell  to  thinking.  A  sort 
of  undefined  longing  crept  upon  them.  This  took 
dim  shape,  presently — it  was  budding  homesickness. 
Even  Finn  the  Red-Handed  was  dreaming  of  hfe 

224 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

doorsteps  and  empty  hogsheads.  But  they  were 
all  ashamed  of  their  weakness,  and  none  was  brave 
enough  to  speak  his  thought. 

For  some  time,  now,  the  boys  had  been  dully 
conscious  of  a  peculiar  sound  in  the  distance,  just 
as  one  sometimes  is  of  the  ticking  of  a  clock  which 
he  takes  no  distinct  note  of.  But  now  this  myste 
rious  sound  became  more  pronounced,  and  forced 
a  recognition.  The  boys  started,  glanced  at  each 
other,  and  then  each  assumed  a  listening  attitude. 
There  was  a  long  silence,  profound  and  unbroken; 
then  a  deep,  sullen  boom  came  floating  down  out 
of  the  distance. 

"What  is  it!"  exclaimed  Joe,  under  his  breath. 

"I  wonder,"  said  Tom  in  a  whisper. 

11  Tain' t  thunder,"  said  Huckleberry,  in  an  awed 
tone,  "becuz  thunder — " 

"Hark!"  said  Tom.     " Listen— don't  talk." 

They  waited  a  time  that  seemed  an  age,  and  then 
the  same  muffled  boom  troubled  the  solemn  hush. 

"Let's  go  and  see." 

They  sprang  to  their  feet  and  hurried  to  the  shore 
toward  the  town.  They  parted  the  bushes  on  the 
bank  and  peered  out  over .  the  water.  The  little 
steam  ferryboat  was  about  a  mile  below  the  village, 
drifting  with  the  current.  Her  broad  deck  seemed 
crowded  with  people.  There  were  a  great  many 
skiffs  rowing  about  or  floating  with  the  stream  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  ferryboat,  but  the  boys  could 
not  determine  what  the  men  in  them  were  doing. 
Presently  a  great  jet  of  white  smoke  burst  from  the 
ferryboat's  side,  and  as  it  expanded  and  rose  in  a 

125 


MARK    TWAIN 

lazy  cloud,  that  same  dull  throb  of  sound  was  borne 
to  the  listeners  again. 

"I  know  now!"  exclaimed  Tom;  "somebody's 
drownded!" 

"That's  it!"  said  Huck;  "they  done  that  last 
summer,  when  Bill  Turner  got  drownded;  they 
shoot  a  cannon  over  the  water,  and  that  makes  him 
come  up  to  the  top.  Yes,  and  they  take  loaves  of 
bread  and  put  quicksilver  in  'em  and  set  'em  afloat, 
and  wherever  there's  anybody  that's  drownded, 
they'll  float  right  there  and  stop." 
""  "Yes,  I've  heard  about  that,"  said  Joe.  "I  won 
der  what  makes  the  bread  do  that." 
I  "Oh,  it  ain't  the  bread,  so  much,"  said  Tom; 
i  "I  reckon  it's  mostly  what  they  say  over  it  before 
they  start  it  out." 

"But  they  don't  say  anything  over  it,"  said 
Huck.  "I've  seen  'em  and  they  don't." 

"Well,  that's  funny,"  said  Tom.  "But  maybe 
they  say  it  to  themselves.  Of  course  they  do.  Any 
body  might  know  that." 

The  other  boys  agreed  that  there  was  reason  in 
what  Tom  said,  because  an  ignorant  lump  of  bread, 
uninstructed  by  an  incantation,  could  not  be  ex 
pected  to  act  very  intelligently  when  sent  upon  an 
errand  of  such  gravity. 

"By  jings,  I  wish  I  was  over  there,  now,"  said  Joe. 

"I  do  too,"  said  Huck.  "I'd  give  heaps  to  know 
who  it  is." 

The  boys  still  listened  and  watched.  Presently  a 
revealing  thought  flashed  through  Tom's  mind,  and 
he  exclaimed: 

126 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

"Boys,  I  know  who's  drownded — it's  us!" 
They  felt  like  heroes  in  an  instant.  Here  was  a 
gorgeous  triumph;  they  were  missed;  they  were 
mourned;  hearts  were  breaking  on  their  account; 
tears  were  being  shed;  accusing  memories  of  un- 
kindnesses  to  these  poor  lost  lads  were  rising  up, 
and  unavailing  regrets  and  remorse  were  being  in 
dulged:  and  best  of  all,  the  departed  were  the  talk 
of  the  whole  town,  and  the  envy  of  all  the  boys,  as 
far  as  this  dazzling  notoriety  was  concerned.  This 
was  fine.  It  was  worth  while  to  be  a  pirate,*&fter  all. 
As  twilight  drew  on,  the  ferryboat  went  back  to 
her  accustomed  business  and  the  skiffs  disappeared. 
The  pirates  returned  to  camp.  They  were  jubilant 
with  vanity  over  their  new  grandeur  and  the  illus 
trious  trouble  they  were  making.  They  caught  fish, 
cooked  supper  and  ate  it,  and  then  fell  to  guessing 
at  what  the  village  was  thinking  and  saying  about 
them;  and  the  pictures  they  drew  of  the  public  dis 
tress  on  their  account  were  gratifying  to  look  upon 
— from  their  point  of  view.  But  when  the  shadows 
of  night  closed  them  in,  they  gradually  ceased  to 
talk,  and  sat  gazing  into  the  fire,  with  their  minds 
evidently  wandering  elsewhere.  The  excitement  was 
gone,  now,  and  Tom  and  Joe  could  not  keep  back 
thoughts  of  certain  persons  at  home  who  were  not 
enjoying  this  fine  frolic  as  much  as  they  were. 
Misgivings  came ;  they  grew  troubled  and  unhappy ; 
a  sigh  or  two  escaped,  unawares.  By  and  by  Joe 
timidly  ventured  upon  a  roundabout  "feeler"  as 
to  how  the  others  might  look  upon  a  return  to 
civilization — not  right  now,  but — 

127 


MARK    TWAIN 

Tom  withered  him  with  derision!  Huck,  being 
uncommitted  as  yet,  joined  in  with  Tom,  and  the 
waverer  quickly  "explained,"  and  was  glad  to  get 
out  of  the  scrape  with  as  little  taint  of  chicken- 
hearted  homesickness  clinging  to  his  garments  as  he 
could.  Mutiny  was  effectually  laid  to  rest  for  the 
moment. 

As  the  night  deepened,  Huck  began  to  nod,  and 
presently  to  snore.  Joe  followed  next.  Tom  lay 
upon  his  elbow  motionless,  for  some  time,  watching 
the  two  intently.  At  last  he  got  up  cautiously,  on 
his  knees,  and  went  searching  among  the  grass  and 
the  flickering  reflections  flung  by  the  camp-fire.  He 
picked  up  and  inspected  several  large  semicylinders 
of  the  thin  white  bark  of  a  sycamore,  and  finally 
chose  two  which  seemed  to  suit  him.  Then  he 
knelt  by  the  fire  and  painfully  wrote  something 
upon  each  of  these  with  his  "red  keel";  one  he 
rolled  up  and  put  in  his  jacket  pocket,  and  the  other 
he  put  in  Joe's  hat  and  removed  it  to  a  little  dis 
tance  from  the  owner.  And  he  also  put  into  the  hat 
certain  school-boy  treasures  of  almost  inestimable 
value — among  them  a  lump  of  chalk,  an  India- 
rubber  ball,  three  fishhooks,  and  one  of  that  kind 
of  marbles  known  as  a  "sure'nough  crystal."  Then 
he  tiptoed  his  way  cautiously  among  the  trees 
till  he  felt  that  he  was  out  of  hearing,  and  straight 
way  broke  into  a  keen  run  in  the  direction  of  the 
sand-bar. 


CHAPTER  XV 

A  FEW  minutes  later  Tom  was  in  the  shoal  water 
of  the  bar,  wading  toward  the  Illinois  shore. 
Before  the  depth  reached  his  middle  he  was  half 
way  over ;  the  current  would  permit  no  more  wading, 
now,  so  he  struck  out  confidently  to  swim  the  re 
maining  hundred  yards.  He  swam  quartering  up 
stream,  but  still  was  swept  downward  rather  faster 
than  he  had  expected.  However,  he  reached  the 
shore  finally,  and  drifted  along  till  he  found  a  low 
place  and  drew  himself  out.  He  put  his  hand  on 
his  jacket  pocket,  found  his  piece  of  bark  safe,  and 
then  struck  through  the  woods,  following  the  shore, 
with  streaming  garments.  Shortly  before  ten  o'clock 
he  came  out  into  an  open  place  opposite  the  village, 
and  saw  the  ferryboat  lying  in  the  shadow  of  the 
trees  and  the  high  bank.  Everything  was  quiet 
under  the  blinking  stars.  He  crept  down  the  bank, 
watching  with  all  his  eyes,  slipped  into  the  water, 
swam  three  or  four  strokes,  and  climbed  into  the 
skiff  that  did  "yawl"  duty  at  the  boat's  stern.  He 
laid  himself  down  under  the  thwarts  and  waited, 
panting. 

Presently  the  cracked  bell  tapped  and  a  voice 
gave  the  order  to  "cast  off."  A  minute  or  two 
later  the  skiff's  head  was  standing  high  up,  against 

129 


MARK    TWAIN 

the  boat's  swell,  and  the  voyage  was  begun.  Tom 
felt  happy  in  his  success,  for  he  knew  it  was  the 
boat's  last  trip  for  the  night.  At  the  end  of  a  long 
twelve  or  fifteen  minutes  the  wheels  stopped,  and 
Tom  slipped  overboard  and  swam  ashore  in  the 
dusk,  landing  fifty  yards  down-stream,  but  of  danger 
of  possible  stragglers. 

He  flew  along  unfrequented  alleys,  and  shortly 
found  himself  at  his  aunt's  back  fence.  He  climbed 
over,  approached  the  "ell,"  and  looked  in  at  the 
sitting-room  window,  for  a  light  was  burning  there. 
There  sat  Aunt  Polly,  Sid,  Mary,  and  Joe  Harper's 
mother,  grouped  together,  talking.  They  were  by 
the  bed,  and  the  bed  was  between  them  and  the 
door.  Tom  went  to  the  door  and  began  to  softly 
lift  the  latch;  then  he  pressed  gently,  and  the  door 
yielded  a  crack;  he  continued  pushing  cautiously, 
and  quaking  every  time  it  creaked,  till  he  judged  he 
might  squeeze  through  on  his  knees;  so  he  put  his 
head  through  and  began,  warily. 

"What  makes  the  candle  blow  so?"  said  Aunt 
Polly.  Tom  hurried  up.  "Why  that  door's  open, 
I  believe.  Why  of  course  it  is.  No  end  of  strange 
things  now.  Go  'long  and  shut  it,  Sid." 

Tom  disappeared  under  the  bed  just  in  time.  He 
lay  and  "breathed"  himself  for  a  time,  and  then 
crept  to  where  he  could  almost  touch  his  aunt's 
foot. 

"But  as  I  was  saying,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  "he 
warn't  bad,  so  to  say — only  mischievous.  Only 
just  giddy,  and  harum-scarum,  you  know.  He 
warn't  any  more  responsible  than  a  colt.  He  never 

130 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

meant  any  harm,  and  he  was  the  best -hear  ted  boy 
that  ever  was" — and  she  began  to  cry. 

"It  was  just  so  with  my  Joe — always  full  of  his 
devilment,  and  up  to  every  kind  of  mischief,  but  he 
was  just  as  unselfish  and  kind  as  he  could  be — and 
laws  bless  me,  to  think  I  went  and  whipped  him  for 
taking  that  cream,  never  once  recollecting  that  I 
throwed  it  out  myself  because  it  was  sour,  and  I 
never  to  see  him  again  in  this  world,  never,  never, 
never,  poor  abused  boy!'*  And  Mrs.  Harper  sobbed 
as  if  her  heart  would  break. 

"I  hope  Tom's  better  off  where  he  is,"  said  Sid, 
"but  if  he'd  been  better  in  some  ways — " 

"Sid!"  Tom  felt  the  glare  of  the  old  lady's 
eye,  though  he  could  not  see  it.  "Not  a  word 
against  my  Tom,  now  that  he's  gone !  God  '11  take 
care  of  him — never  you  trouble  yourself,  sir!  Oh, 
Mrs.  Harper,  I  don't  know  how  to  give  him  up! 
I  don't  know  how  to  give  him  up!  He  was  such  a 
comfort  to  me,  although  he  tormented  my  old  heart 
out  of  me,  'most." 

"The  Lord  giveth  and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away, 
— blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord!  But  it's  so 
hard — oh,  it's  so  hard!  Only  last  Saturday  my 
Joe  busted  a  firecracker  right  under  my  nose  and  I 
knocked  him  sprawling.  Little  did  I  know  then 
how  soon — Oh,  if  it  was  to  do  over  again  I'd  hug 
him  and  bless  him  for  it." 

"Yes,  yes,  yes,  I  know  just  how  you  feel,  Mrs. 
Harper,  I  know  just  exactly  how  you  feel.  No 
longer  ago  than  yesterday  noon,  my  Tom  took  and 
filled  the  cat  full  of  Pain-killer,  and  I  did  think  the 


MARK    TWAIN 

cretur  would  tear  the  house  down.  And  God  for 
give  me,  I  cracked  Tom's  head  with  my  thimble, 
poor  boy,  poor  dead  boy.  But  he's  out  of  all  his 
troubles  now.  And  the  last  words  I  ever  heard  him 
say  was  to  reproach — ' 

But  this  memory  was  too  much  for  the  old  lady, 
and  she  broke  entirely  down.  Tom  was  snuffling, 
now,  himself — and  more  in  pity  of  himself  than 
anybody  else.  He  could  hear  Mary  crying,  and 
putting  in  a  kindly  word  for  him  from  time  to  time. 
He  began  to  have  a  nobler  opinion  of  himself  than 
ever  before.  Still,  he  was  sufficiently  touched  by  his 
aunt's  grief  to  long  to  rush  out  from  under  the  bed 
and  overwhelm  her  with  joy — and  the  theatrical 
gorgeousness  of  the  thing  appealed  strongly  to  his 
nature,  too,  but  he  resisted  and  lay  still. 

He  went  on  listening,  and  gathered  by  odds  and 
ends  that  it  was  conjectured  at  first  that  the  boys 
had  got  drowned  while  taking  a  swim;  then  the 
small  raft  had  been  missed;  next,  certain  boys  said 
the  missing  lads  had  promised  that  the  village  should 
"hear  something"  soon;  the  wise-heads  had  "put 
this  and  that  together"  and  decided  that  the  lads 
had  gone  off  on  that  raft  and  would  turn  up  at  the 
next  town  below,  presently;  but  toward  noon  the 
raft  had  been  found,  lodged  against  the  Missouri 
shore  some  five  or  six  miles  below  the  village — and 
then  hope  perished;  they  must  be  drowned,  else 
hunger  would  have  driven  them  home  by  nightfall  if 
not  sooner.  It  was  believed  that  the  search  for  the 
bodies  had  been  a  fruitless  effort  merely  because  the 
drowning  must  have  occurred  in  mid-channel,  since 

132 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

the  boys,  being  good  swimmers,  would  otherwise 
have  escaped  to  shore.  This  was  Wednesday  night. 
If  the  bodies  continued  missing  until  Sunday,  all 
hope  would  be  given  over,  and  the  funerals  would 
be  preached  on  that  morning.  Tom  shuddered. 

Mrs.  Harper  gave  a  sobbing  good  night  and  turned 
to  go.  Then  with  a  mutual  impulse  the  two  be 
reaved  women  flung  themselves  into  each  other's 
arms  and  had  a  good,  consoling  cry,  and  then 
parted.  Aunt  Polly  was  tender  far  beyond  her 
wont,  in  her  good  night  to  Sid  and  Mary.  Sid 
snuffled  a  bit  and  Mary  went  off  crying  with  all 
her  heart. 

Aunt  Polly  knelt  down  and  prayed  for  Tom  so 
touchingly,  so  appealingly,  and  with  such  measure 
less  love  in  her  words  and  her  old  trembling  voice, 
that  he  was  weltering  in  tears  again  long  before  she 
was  through. 

He  had  to  keep  still  long  after,  she  went  to  bed, 
for  she  kept  making  broken-hearted  ejaculations 
from  time  to  time,  tossing  unrestfully,  and  turning 
over.  But  at  last  she  was  still,  only  moaning  a 
little  in  her  sleep.  Now  the  boy  stole  out,  rose 
gradually  by  the  bedside,  shaded  the  candlelight 
with  his  hand,  and  stood  regarding  her.  His  heart 
was  full  of  pity  for  her.  He  took  out  his  sycamore 
scroll  and  placed  it  by  the  candle.  But  something 
occurred  to  him,  and  he  lingered  considering.  His 
face  lighted  with  a  happy  solution  of  his  thought; 
he  put  the  bark  hastily  in  his  pocket.  Then  he  bent 
over  and  kissed  the  faded  lips,  and  straightway  made 
his  stealthy  exit,  latching  the  door  behind  him. 

*o  133 


MARK    TWAIN 

He  threaded  his  way  back  to  the  ferry  landing, 
found  nobody  at  large  there,  and  walked  boldly  on 
board  the  boat,  for  he  knew  she  was  tenantless 
except  that  there  was  a  watchman,  who  always 
turned  in  and  slept  like  a  graven  image.  He  untied 
the  skiff  at  the  stern,  slipped  into  it,  and  was  soon 
rowing  cautiously  up-stream.  When  he  had  pulled 
a  mile  above  the  village,  he  started  quartering  across 
and  bent  himself  stoutly  to  his  work.  He  hit  the 
landing  on  the  other  side  neatly,  for  this  was  a 
familiar  bit  of  work  to  him.  He  was  moved  to 
capture  the  skiff,  arguing  that  it  might  be  considered 
a  ship  and  therefore  legitimate  prey  for  a  pirate,  but 
he  knew  a  thorough  search  would  be  made  for  it 
and  that  might  end  in  revelations.  So  he  stepped 
ashore  and  entered  the  wood. 

He  sat  down  and  took  a  long  rest,  torturing  him 
self  meantime  to  keep  awake,  and  then  started 
warily  down  the  home-stretch.  The  night  was  far 
spent.  It  was  broad  daylight  before  he  found  him 
self  fairly  abreast  the  island  bar.  He  rested  again 
until  the  sun  was  well  up  and  gilding  the  great 
river  with  its  splendor,  and  then  he  plunged  into 
the  stream.  A  little  later  he  paused,  dripping, 
upon  the  threshold  of  the  camp,  and  heard  Joe 
say: 

"No,  Tom's  true-blue,  Huck,  and  he'll  come 
back.  He  won't  desert.  He  knows  that  would  be 
a  disgrace  to  a  pirate,  and  Tom's  too  proud  for  that 
sort  of  thing.  He's  up  to  something  or  other. 
Now  I  wonder  what?" 

"Well,  the  things  is  ours,  anyway,  ain't  they?" 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"Pretty  near,  but  not  yet,  Huck.  The  writing 
says  they  are  if  he  ain't  back  here  to  breakfast." 

"Which  he  is!"  exclaimed  Tom,  with  fine  dra 
matic  effect,  stepping  grandly  into  camp. 

A  sumptuous  breakfast  of  bacon  and  fish  was 
shortly  provided,  and  as  the  boys  set  to  work  upon 
it,  Tom  recounted  (and  adorned)  his  adventures. 
They  were  a  vain  and  boastful  company  of  heroes 
when  the  tale  was  done.  Then  Tom  hid  himself 
away  in  a  shady  nook  to  sleep  till  noon,  and  the 
other  pirates  got  ready  to  fish  and  explore. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

A  FTER  dinner  all  the  gang  turned  out  to  hunt  for 
jT\  turtle  eggs  on  the  bar.  They  went  about 
poking  sticks  into  the  sand,  and  when  they  found  a 
soft  place  they  went  down  on  their  knees  and  dug 
with  their  hands.  Sometimes  they  would  take  fifty 
or  sixty  eggs  out  of  one  hole.  They  were  perfectly 
round  white  things  a  trifle  smaller  than  an  English 
walnut.  They  had  a  famous  fried-egg  feast  that 
night,  and  another  on  Friday  morning. 

After  breakfast  they  went  whooping  and  prancing 
out  on  the  bar,  and  chased  each  other  round  and 
round,  shedding  clothes  as  they  went,  until  they 
were  naked,  and  then  continued  the  frolic  far  away 
up  the  shoal  water  of  the  bar,  against  the  stiff 
current,  which  latter  tripped  their  legs  from  under 
them  from  time  to  time  and  greatly  increased  the 
fun.  And  now  and  then  they  stooped  in  a  group 
and  splashed  water  in  each  other's  faces  with 
their  palms,  gradually  approaching  each  other,  with 
averted  faces  to  avoid  the  strangling  sprays,  and 
finally  gripping  and  struggling  till  the  best  man 
ducked  his  neighbor,  and  then  they  all  went  under 
in  a  tangle  of  white  legs  and  arms,  and  came  up 
blowing,  sputtering,  laughing,  and  gasping  for  breath 
at  one  and  the  same  time. 

136 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

When  they  were  well  exhausted,  they  would  run 
out  and  sprawl  on  the  dry,  hot  sand,  and  lie  there 
and  cover  themselves  up  with  it,  and  by  and  by 
break  for  the  water  again  and  go  through  the  original 
performance  once  more.  Finally  it  occurred  to 
them  that  their  naked  skin  represented  flesh-colored 
"tights"  very  fairly;  so  they  drew  a  ring  in  the 
sand  and  had  a  circus — with  three  clowns  in  it,  for 
none  would  yield  this  proudest  post  to  his  neighbor. 

Next  they  got  their  marbles  and  played  "knucks" 
and  "ring-taw"  and  "keeps"  till  that  amusement 
grew  stale.  Then  Joe  and  Huck  had  another  swim, 
but  Tom  would  not  venture,  because  he  found  that 
in  kicking  off  his  trousers  he  had  kicked  his  string 
of  rattlesnake  rattles  off  his  ankle,  and  he  wondered 
how  he  had  escaped  cramp  so  long  without  the  pro 
tection  of  this  mysterious  charm.  He  did  not  ven 
ture  again  until  he  had  found  it,  and  by  that  time 
the  other  boys  were  tired  and  ready  to  rest.  They 
gradually  wandered  apart,  dropped  into  the  * '  dumps,1' 
and  fell  to  gazing  longingly  across  the  wide  river 
to  where  the  village  lay  drowsing  in  the  sun.  Tom 
found  himself  writing  "BECKY"  in  the  sand  with 
his  big  toe ;  he  scratched  it  out,  and  was  angry  with 
himself  for  his  weakness.  But  he  wrote  it  again, 
nevertheless;  he  could  not  help  it.  He  erased  it 
once  more  and  then  took  himself  out  of  temptation 
by  driving  the  other  boys  together  and  joining 
them. 

But  Joe's  spirits  had  gone  down  almost  beyond 
resurrection.  He  was  so  homesick  that  he  could 
hardly  endure  the  misery  of  it.  The  tears  lay  very 


MARK    TWAIN 

near  the  surface.  Huck  was  melancholy,  too.  Tom 
was  downhearted,  but  tried  hard  not  to  show  it. 
He  had  a  secret  which  he  was  not  ready  to  tell,  yet, 
but  if  this  mutinous  depression  was  not  broken  up 
soon,  he  would  have  to  bring  it  out.  He  said,  with 
a  great  show  of  cheerfulness: 

"I  bet  there's  been  pirates  on  this  island  before, 
boys.  We'll  explore  it  again.  They've  hid  treas 
ures  here  somewhere.  How'd  you  feel  to  light  on  a 
rotten  chest  full  of  gold  and  silver — hey?" 

But  it  roused  only  a  faint  enthusiasm,  which  faded 
out,  with  no  reply.  Tom  tried  one  or  two  other 
seductions;  but  they  failed,  too.  It  was  discourag 
ing  work.  Joe  sat  poking  up  the  sand  with  a  stick 
and  looking  very  gloomy.  Finally  he  said: 

"Oh,  boys,  let's  give  it  up.  I  want  to  go  home. 
It's  so  lonesome." 

"Oh,  no,  Joe,  you'll  feel  better  by  and  by,"  said 
Tom.  "Just  think  of  the  fishing  that's  here." 

"I  don't  care  for  fishing.     I  want  to  go  home." 

"But,  Joe,  there  ain't  such  another  swimming- 
place  anywhere." 

"Swimming's  no  good.  I  don't  seem  to  care  for 
it,  somehow,  when  there  ain't  anybody  to  say  I 
sha'n't  go  in.  I  mean  to  go  home." 

"Oh,  shucks!  Baby!  You  want  to  see  your 
mother,  I  reckon." 

"Yes,  I  do  want  to  see  my  mother — and  you 
would,  too,  if  you  had  one.  I  ain't  any  more  baby 
than  you  are."  And  Joe  snuffled  a  little. 

"Well,  we'll  let  the  cry-baby  go  home  to  his 
mother,  won't  we  Huck?  Poor  thing — does  it  want 

138 


ADVENTURES    OF     TOM     SAWYER 

to  see  its  mother?  And  so  it  shall.  You  like  it 
here,  don't  you,  Huck?  We'll  stay,  won't  we?" 

Huck  said  "Y-e-s" — without  any  heart  in  it. 

'Til  never  speak  to  you  again  as  long  as  I  live," 
said  Joe,  rising.  "There  now!"  And  he  moved 
moodily  away  and  began  to  dress  himself. 

"Who  cares!"  said  Tom.  "Nobody  wants  you 
to.  Go  'long  home  and  get  laughed  at.  Oh,  you're 
a  nice  pirate.  Huck  and  me  ain't  cry-babies.  We'll 
stay,  won't  we,  Huck?  Let  him  go  if  he  wants  to. 
I  reckon  we  can  get  along  without  him,  per'aps."  J 

But  Tom  was  uneasy,  nevertheless,  and  was 
alarmed  to  see  Joe  go  sullenly  on  with  his  dressing. 
And  then  it  was  discomforting  to  see  Huck  eying 
Joe's  preparations  so  wistfully,  and  keeping  up  such 
an  ominous  silence.  Presently,  without  a  parting 
word,  Joe  began  to  wade  off  toward  the  Illinois 
shore.  Tom's  heart  began  to  sink.  He  glanced  at 
Huck.  Huck  could  not  bear  the  look,  and  dropped 
his  eyes.  Then  he  said: 

"I  want  to  go,  too,  Tom.  It  was  getting  so 
lonesome  anyway,  and  now  it  '11  be  worse.  Let's  us 
go,  too,  Tom." 

"I  won't!  You  can  all  go,  if  you  want  to.  I 
mean  to  stay." 

4 'Tom,  I  better  go." 

"Well,  go  'long — who's  hendering  you?" 

Huck  began  to  pick  up  his  scattered  clothes.  H? 
said : 

"Tom,  I  wisht  you'd  come,  too.  Now  you  think 
it  over.  We'll  wait  for  you  when  we  get  to  shore." 

"Well,  you'll  wait  a  blame  long  time,  that's  all," 


MARK    TWAIN 

Huck  started  sorrowfully  away,  and  Tom  stood 
looking  after  him,  with  a  strong  desire  tugging  at  his 
heart  to  yield  his  pride  and  go  along  too.  He  hoped 
the  boys  would  stop,  but  they  still  waded  slowly  on. 
It  suddenly  dawned  on  Tom  that  it  was  become  very 
lonely  and  still.  He  made  one  final  struggle  with 
his  pride,  and  then  darted  after  his  comrades, 
yelling : 

"Wait!    Wait!    I  want  to  tell  you  something!" 

They  presently  stopped  and  turned  around.  When 
he  got  to  where  they  were,  he  began  unfolding  his 
secret,  and  they  listened  moodily  till  at  last  they  saw 
the  "point"  he  was  driving  at,  and  then  they  set 
up  a  war-whoop  of  applause  and  said  it  was  "splen 
did!"  and  said  if  he  had  told  them  at  first,  they 
wouldn't  have  started  away.  He  made  a  plausible 
excuse;  but  his  real  reason  had  been  the  fear  that 
not  even  the  secret  would  keep  them  with  him  any 
very  great  length  of  time,  and  so  he  had  meant  to 
hold  it  in  reserve  as  a  last  seduction. 

The  lads  came  gaily  back  and  went  at  their  sports 
again  with  a  will,  chattering  all  the  time  about 
Tom's  stupendous  plan  and  admiring  the  genius  of 
it.  After  a  dainty  egg  and  fish  dinner,  Tom  said  he 
wanted  to  learn  to  smoke,  now.  Joe  caught  at  the 
idea  and  said  he  would  like  to  try,  too.  So  Huck 
made  pipes  and  filled  them.  These  novices  had 
never  smoked  anything  before  but  cigars  made  of 
grapevine,  and  they  "bit"  the  tongue,  and  were  not 
considered  manly  anyway. 

Now  they  stretched  themselves  out  on  their 
elbows  and  began  to  puff,  charily,  and  with  slender 

140 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

confidence.  The  smoke  had  an  unpleasant  taste, 
and  they  gagged  a  little,  but  Tom  said: 

"Why,  it's  just  as  easy!  If  I'd  'a'  knowed  this 
was  all,  I'd  'a'  learnt  long  ago." 

"So  would  I,"  said  Joe.     "It's  just  nothing." 

"Why,  many  a  time  I've  looked  at  people  smoking, 
and  thought  well  I  wish  I  could  do  that;  but  I 
never  thought  I  could,"  said  Tom. 

"That's  just  the  way  with  me,  hain't  it,  Huck? 
You've  heard  me  talk  just  that  way — haven't  you, 
Huck?  I'll  leave  it  to  Huck  if  I  haven't." 

"Yes — heaps  of  times,"  said  Huck. 

"Well,  I  have  too,"  said  Tom;  "oh,  hundreds 
of  times.  Once  down  by  the  slaughter-house. 
Don't  you  remember,  Huck?  Bob  Tanner  was 
there,  and  Johnny  Miller,  and  Jeff  Thatcher,  when 
I  said  it.  Don't  you  remember,  Huck,  'bout  me 
saying  that?" 

"Yes,  that's  so,"  said  Huck.  "That  was  the 
day  after  I  lost  a  white  alley.  No,  'twas  the  day 
before." 

"There— I  told  you  so,"  said  Tom.  "Huck 
recollects  it." 

"I  bleeve  I  could  smoke  this  pipe  all  day,"  said 
Joe.  "/  don't  feel  sick." 

"Neither  do  I,"  said  Tom.  "7  could  smoke  it 
all  day.  But  I  bet  you  Jeff  Thatcher  couldn't." 

"Jeff  Thatcher!  Why,  he'd  keel  over  just  with 
two  draws.  Just  let  him  try  it  once.  He'd  see!" 

"I  bet  he  would.  And  Johnny  Miller  —  I  wish 
I  could  see  Johnny  Miller  tackle  it  once." 

"Oh,  don't  I!"  said  Joe.  "Why,  I  bet  you 

141 


MARK     TWAIN 

Johnny  Miller  couldn't  any  more  do  this  than 
nothing.  Just  one  little  snifter  would  fetch  him." 

"'Deed  it  would,  Joe.  Say — I  wish  the  boys 
could  see  us  now." 

"So  do  I." 

"Say — boys,  don't  say  anything  about  it,  and 
some  time  when  they're  around,  I'll  come  up  to 
you  and  say,  'Joe,  got  a  pipe?  I  want  a  smoke.' 
And  you'll  say,  kind  of  careless  like,  as  if  it  warn't 
anything,  you'll  say,  'Yes,  I  got  my  old  pipe,  and 
another  one,  but  my  tobacker  ain't  very  good/ 
And  I'll  say,  'Oh,  that's  all  right,  if  it's  strong 
enough.'  And  then  you'll  out  with  the  pipes,  and 
we'll  light  up  just  as  ca'm,  and  then  just  see  'em 
look!" 

"By  jings,  that  '11  be  gay,  Tom!  I  wish  it  was 
now!" 

"So  do  I!  And  when  we  tell  'em  we  learned 
when  we  was  off  pirating,  won't  they  wish  they'd 
been  along?" 

"Oh,  I  reckon  not!    I'll  just  bet  they  will!" 

So  the  talk  ran  on.  But  presently  it  began  to 
flag  a  trifle,  and  grow  disjointed.  The  silences 
widened;  the  expectoration  marvelously  increased. 
Every  pore  inside  the  boys'  cheeks  became  a  spout 
ing  fountain;  they  could  scarcely  bail  out  the  cellars 
under  their  tongues  fast  enough  to  prevent  an  inun 
dation;  little  overflowings  down  their  throats  oc 
curred  in  spite  of  all  they  could  do,  and  sudden 
retchings  followed  every  time.  Both  boys  were 
looking  very  pale  and  miserable,  now.  Joe's  pipe 
dropped  from  his  nerveless  firlgers.  Tom's  followed, 

142 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

Both  fountains  were  going  furiously  and  both  pumps 
bailing  with  might  and  main.  Joe  said  feebly: 

"I've  lost  my  knife.  I  reckon  I  better  go  and 
find  it." 

Tom  said,  with  quivering  lips  and  halting  utter 
ance: 

"I'll  help  you.  You  go  over  that  way  and  I'll 
hunt  around  by  the  spring.  No,  you  needn't  come, 
Huck  —  we  can  find  it." 

So  Huck  sat  down  again,  and  waited  an  hour. 
Then  he  found  it  lonesome,  and  went  to  find  his 
comrades.  They  were  wide  apart  in  the  woods, 
both  very  pale,  both  fast  asleep.  But  something 
informed  him  that  if  they  had  had  any  trouble  they 
had  got  rid  of  it. 

They  were  not  talkative  at  supper  that  night. 
They  had  a  humble  look,  and  when  Huck  prepared 
his  pipe  after  the  meal  and  was  going  to  prepare 
theirs,  they  said  no,  they  were  not  feeling  very  well— 
they  ate  at  dinner  had  disagreed  with 


About  midnight  Joe  awoke,  and  called  the  boys. 
There  was  a  brooding  oppressiveness  in  the  air  that 
seemed  to  bode  something.  The  boys  huddled 
themselves  together  and  sought  the  friendly  com 
panionship  of  the  fire,  though  the  dull  dead  heat  of 
the  breathless  atmosphere  was  stifling.  They  sat 
still,  intent  and  waiting.  The  solemn  hush  con 
tinued.  Beyond  the  light  of  the  fire  everything  was 
swallowed  up  in  the  blackness  of  darkness.  Presently 
there  came  a  quivering  glow  that  vaguely  revealed 
the  foliage  for  a  moment  and  then  vanished.  By 


MARK    TWAIN 

and  by  another  came,  a  little  stronger.  Then 
another.  Then  a  faint  moan  came  sighing  through 
the  branches  of  the  forest  and  the  boys  felt  a  fleet 
ing  breath  upon  their  cheeks,  and  shuddered  with 
the  fancy  that  the  Spirit  of  the  Night  had  gone  by. 
There  was  a  pause.  Now  a  weird  flash  turned  night 
into  day  and  showed  every  little  grass-blade,  separate 
and  distinct,  that  grew  about  their  feet.  And  it 
showed  three  white,  startled  faces,  too.  A  deep 
peal  of  thunder  went  rolling  and  tumbling  down  the 
heavens  and  lost  itself  in  sullen  rumblings  in  the 
distance.  A  sweep  of  chilly  air  passed  by,  rustling 
all  the  leaves  and  snowing  the  flaky  ashes  broadcast 
about  the  fire.  Another  fierce  glare  lit  up  the  forest, 
and  an  instant  crash  followed  that  seemed  to  rend 
the  treetops  right  over  the  boys*  heads.  They 
clung  together  in  terror,  in  the  thick  gloom  that 
followed.  A  few  big  raindrops  fell  pattering  upon 
the  leaves. 

"Quick,  boys!  go  for  the  tent!"  exclaimed  Tom. 

They  sprang  away,  stumbling  over  roots  and 
among  vines  in  the  dark,  no  two  plunging  in  the 
same  direction.  A  furious  blast  roared  through  the 
trees,  making  everything  sing  as  it  went.  One 
blinding  flash  after  another  came,  and  peal  on  peal 
of  deafening  thunder.  And  now  a  drenching  rain 
poured  down  and  the  rising  hurricane  drove  it  in 
sheets  along  the  ground.  The  boys  cried  out  to 
each  other,  but  the  roaring  wind  and  the  booming 
thunderblasts  drowned  their  voices  utterly.  How 
ever,  one  by  one  they  straggled  in  at  last  and  took 
shelter  under  the  tent,  cold,  scared,  and  streaming 

144 


ADVENTURES    OP    TOM    SAWYER 

with  water;  but  to  have  company  in  misery  seemed 
something  to  be  grateful  for.  They  could  not  talk, 
the  old  sail  flapped  so  furiously,  even  if  the  other 
noises  would  have  allowed  them.  The  tempest  rose 
higher  and  higher,  and  presently  the  sail  tore  loose 
from  its  fastenings  and  went  winging  away  on  the 
blast.  The  boys  seized  each  other's  hands  and  fled, 
with  many  tumblings  and  bruises,  to  the  shelter  of  a 
great  oak  that  stood  upon  the  river-bank.  Now  the 
battle  was  at  its  highest.  Under  the  ceaseless  con 
flagration  of  lightning  that  flamed  in  the  skies, 
everything  below  stood  out  in  clean-cut  and  shadow- 
less  distinctness:  the  bending  trees,  the  billowy 
river,  white  with  foam,  the  driving  spray  of  spume- 
flakes,  the  dim  outlines  of  the  high  bluffs  on  the 
other  side,  glimpsed  through  the  drifting  cloud-rack 
and  the  slanting  veil  of  rain.  Every  little  while 
some  giant  tree  yielded  the  fight  and  fell  crashing 
through  the  younger  growth;  and  the  unflagging 
thunder-peals  came  now  in  ear-splitting  explosive 
bursts,  keen  and  sharp,  and  unspeakably  appalling. 
The  storm  culminated  in  one  matchless  effort  that 
seemed  likely  to  tear  the  island  to  pieces,  burn  it 
up,  drown  it  to  the  treetops,  blow  it  away,  and 
deafen  every  creature  in  it,  all  at  one  and  the  same 
moment.  It  was  a  wild  night  for  homeless  young 
heads  to  be  out  in. 

But  at  last  the  battle  was  done,  and  the  forces 
retired  with  weaker  and  weaker  threatenings  and 
grumblings,  and  peace  resumed  her  sway.  The 
boys  went  back  to  camp,  a  good  deal  awed;  but 
they  found  there  was  still  something  to  be  thankful 

H5 


MARK    TWAIN 

for,  because  the  great  sycamore,  the  shelter  of  their 
beds,  was  a  ruin  now,  blasted  by  the  lightnings, 
and  they  were  not  under  it  when  the  catastrophe 
happened. 

Everything  in  camp  was  drenched,  the  camp-fire 
as  well;  for  they  were  but  heedless  lads,  like  their 
generation,  and  had  made  no  provision  against  rain. 
Here  was  matter  for  dismay,  for  they  were  soaked 
through  and  chilled.  They  were  eloquent  in  their 
distress;  but  they  presently  discovered  that  the  fire 
had  eaten  so  far  up  under  the  great  log  it  had  been 
built  against  (where  it  curved  upward  and  separated 
itself  from  the  ground),  that  a  handbreadth  or  so  of 
it  had  escaped  wetting;  so  they  patiently  wrought 
until,  with  shreds  and  bark  gathered  from  the  under 
sides  of  sheltered  logs,  they  coaxed  the  fire  to  burn 
again.  Then  they  piled  on  great  dead  boughs  till 
they  had  a  roaring  furnace,  and  were  glad-hearted 
once  more.  They  dried  their  boiled  ham  and  had  a 
feast,  and  after  that  they  sat  by  the  fire  and  ex 
panded  and  glorified  their  midnight  adventure  until 
morning,  for  there  was  not  a  dry  spot  to  sleep  on, 
anywhere  around. 

As  the  sun  began  to  steal  in  upon  the  boys, 
drowsiness  came  over  them  and  they  went  out  on 
the  sand-bar  and  lay  down  to  sleep.  They  got 
scorched  out  by  and  by,  and  drearily  set  about 
getting  breakfast.  After  the  meal  they  felt  rusty,  and 
stiff -jointed,  and  a  little  homesick  once  more.  Tom 
saw  the  signs,  and  fell  to  cheering  up  the  pirates  as 
well  as  he  could.  But  they  cared  nothing  for  mar 
bles,  or  circus,  or  swimming,  or  anything.  He  re- 

146 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

minded  them  of  the  imposing  secret,  and  raised  a 
ray  of  cheer.  While  it  lasted,  he  got  them  interested 
in  a  new  device.  This  was  to  knock  off  being 
pirates,  for  a  while,  and  be  Indians  for  a  change. 
They  were  attracted  by  this  idea ;  so  it  was  not  long 
before  they  were  stripped,  and  striped  from  head  to 
heel  with  black  mud,  like  so  many  zebras — all  of 
them  chiefs,  of  course — and  then  they  went  tearing 
through  the  woods  to  attack  an  English  settlement. 

By  and  by  they  separated  into  three  hostile  tribes, 
and  darted  upon  each  other  from  ambush  with 
dreadful  war-whoops,  and  killed  and  scalped  each 
other  by  thousands.  It  was  a  gory  day.  Conse 
quently  it  was  an  extremely  satisfactory  one. 

They  assembled  in  camp  toward  supper -time, 
hungry  and  happy;  but  now  a  difficulty  arose— 
hostile  Indians  could  not  break  the  bread  of  hospi 
tality  together  without  first  making  peace,  and  this 
was  a  simple  impossibility  without  smoking  a  pipe  of 
peace.  There  was  no  other  process  that  ever  they 
had  heard  of.  Two  of  the  savages  almost  wished 
they  had  remained  pirates.  However,  there  was  no 
other  way;  so  with  such  show  of  cheerfulness  as 
they  could  muster  they  called  for  the  pipe  and  took 
their  whiff  as  it  passed,  in  due  form. 

And  behold,  they  were  glad  they  had  gone  into 
savagery,  for  they  had  gained  something;  they 
found  that  they  could  now  smoke  a  little  without 
having  to  go  and  hunt  for  a  lost  knife;  they  did  not 
get  sick  enough  to  be  seriously  uncomfortable. 
They  were  not  likely  to  fool  away  this  high  promise 
for  lack  of  effort.  No,  they  practised  cautiously, 


MARK    TWAIN 

after  supper,  with  right  fair  success,  and  so  they 
spent  a  jubilant  evening.  They  were  prouder  and 
happier  in  their  new  acquirement  than  they  would 
have  been  in  the  scalping  and  skinning  of  the  Six 
Nations.  We  will  leave  them  to  smoke  and  chatter 
and  brag,  since  we  have  no  further  use  for  them  at 
present. 


CHAPTER  XVTI 

BUT  there  was  no  hilarity  in  the  little  town  that 
same  tranquil  Saturday  afternoon.  The  Har 
pers,  and  Aunt  Polly's  family,  were  being  put  into 
mourning,  with  great  grief  and  many  tears.  An 
unusual  quiet  possessed  the  village,  although  it  was 
ordinarily  quiet  enough,  in  all  conscience.  The  vil 
lagers  conducted  their  concerns  with  an  absent  air, 
and  talked  little;  but  they  sighed  often.  The 
Saturday  holiday  seemed  a  burden  to  the  children. 
They  had  no  heart  in  their  sports,  and  gradually 
gave  them  up. 

In  the  afternoon  Becky  Thatcher  found  herself 
moping  about  the  deserted  school-house  yard,  and 
feeling  very  melancholy.  But  she  found  nothing 
there  to  comfort  her.  She  soliloquized: 

"Oh,  if  I  only  had  a  brass  andiron-knob  again! 
But  I  haven't  got  anything  now  to  remember  him 
by."  And  she  choked  back  a  little  sob. 

Presently  she  stopped,  and  said  to  herself: 

"It  was  right  here.  Oh,  if  it  was  to  do  over 
again,  I  wouldn't  say  that — I  wouldn't  say  it  for  the 
whole  world.  But  he's  gone  now;  I'll  never  never 
never  see  him  any  more." 

This  thought  broke  her  down  and  she  wandered 
away,  with  the  tears  rolling  down  her  cheeks.  Then 


MARK     TWAIN 

quite  a  group  of  boys  and  girls  —  playmates  of 
Tom's  and  Joe's — came  by,  and  stood  looking  over 
the  paling  fence  and  talking  in  reverent  tones  of  how 
Tom  did  so-and-so,  the  last  time  they  saw  him,  and 
how  Joe  said  this  and  that  small  trifle  (pregnant  with 
awful  prophecy,  as  they  could  easily  see  now!) — 
and  each  speaker  pointed  out  the  exact  spot  where 
the  lost  lads  stood  at  the  time,  and  then  added  some 
thing  like  "and  I  was  a-standing  just  so — just  as 
I  am  now,  and  as  if  you  was  him — I  was  as  close 
as  that — and  he  smiled,  just  this  way — and  then 
something  seemed  to  go  all  over  me,  like — awful, 
you  know — and  I  never  thought  what  it  meant,  of 
course,  but  I  can  see  now!" 

Then  there  was  a  dispute  about  who  saw  the  dead 
boys  last  in  life,  and  many  claimed  that  dismal  dis 
tinction,  and  offered  evidences,  more  or  less  tampered 
with  by  the  witness;  and  when  it  was  ultimately  de 
cided  who  did  see  the  departed  last,  and  exchanged 
the  last  words  with  them,  the  lucky  parties  took 
upon  themselves  a  sort  of  sacred  importance,  and 
were  gaped  at  and  envied  by  all  the  rest.  One 
poor  chap,  who  had  no  other  grandeur  to  offer,  said 
with  tolerably  manifest  pride  in  the  remembrance: 

"Well,  Tom  Sawyer  he  licked  me  once." 

But  that  bid  for  glory  was  a  failure.  Most  of  the 
boys  could  say  that,  and  so  that  cheapened  the 
distinction  too  much.  The  group  loitered  away, 
still  recalling  memories  of  the  lost  heroes,  in  awed 
voices. 

When  the  Sunday-school  hour  was  finished,  the 
next  morning,  the  bell  began  to  toll,  instead  of  ring- 

150 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

ing  in  the  usual  way.  It  was  a  very  still  Sabbath, 
and  the  mournful  sound  seemed  in  keeping  with  the 
musing  hush  that  lay  upon  nature.  The  villagers 
began  to  gather,  loitering  a  moment  in  the  vestibule 
to  converse  in  whispers  about  the  sad  event.  But 
there  was  no  whispering  in  the  house;  only  the 
funereal  rustling  of  dresses  as  the  women  gathered  to 
their  seats  disturbed  the  silence  there.  None  could 
remember  when  the  little  church  had  been  so  full 
before.  There  was  finally  a  waiting  pause,  an  ex 
pectant  dumbness,  and  then  Aunt  Polly  entered,  fol 
lowed  by  Sid  and  Mary,  and  they  by  the  Harper 
family,  all  in  deep  black,  and  the  whole  congrega 
tion,  the  old  minister  as  well,  rose  reverently  and 
stood,  until  the  mourners  were  seated  in  the  front 
pew.  There  was  another  communing  silence,  broken 
at  intervals  by  muffled  sobs,  and  then  the  minister 
spread  his  hands  abroad  and  prayed.  A  moving 
hymn  was  sung,  and  the  text  followed:  ''I  am  the 
Resurrection  and  the  Life." 

As  the  service  proceeded,  the  clergyman  drew 
such  pictures  of  the  graces,  the  winning  ways,  and 
the  rare  promise  of  the  lost  lads,  that  every  soul 
there,  thinking  he  recognized  these  pictures,  felt  a 
pang  in  remembering  that  he  had  persistently  blinded 
himself  to  them  always  before,  and  had  as  persist 
ently  seen  only  faults  and  flaws  in  the  poor  boys. 
The  minister  related  many  a  touching  incident  in  the 
lives  of  the  departed,  too,  which  illustrated  their 
sweet,  generous  natures,  and  the  people  could  easily 
see,  now,  how  noble  and  beautiful  those  episodes 
were,  and  remembered  with  grief  that  at  the  time 


MARK     TWAIN 

they  occurred  they  had  seemed  rank  rascalities,  well 
deserving  of  the  cowhide.  The  congregation  became 
more  and  more  moved,  as  the  pathetic  tale  went  on, 
till  at  last  the  whole  company  broke  down  and  joined 
the  weeping  mourners  in  a  chorus  of  anguished  sobs, 
the  preacher  himself  giving  way  to  his  feelings,  and 
crying  in  the  pulpit. 

There  was  a  rustle  in  the  gallery,  which  nobody 
noticed;  a  moment  later  the  church  door  creaked; 
the  minister  raised  his  streaming  eyes  above  his 
handkerchief,  and  stood  transfixed!  First  one  and 
then  another  pair  of  eyes  followed  the  minister's,  and 
then  almost  with  one  impulse  the  congregation  rose 
and  stared  while  the  three  dead  boys  came  marching 
up  the  aisle,  Tom  in  the  lead,  Joe  next,  and  Huck, 
a  ruin  of  drooping  rags,  sneaking  sheepishly  in  the 
rear!  They  had  been  hid  in  the  unused  gallery 
listening  to  their  own  funeral  sermon! 

Aunt  Polly,  Mary,  and  the  Harpers  threw  them 
selves  upon  their  restored  ones,  smothered  them  with 
kisses  and  poured  out  thanksgivings,  while  poor 
Huck  stood  abashed  and  uncomfortable,  not  knowing 
exactly  what  to  do  or  where  to  hide  from  so  many 
unwelcoming  eyes.  He  wavered,  and  started  to 
slink  away,  but  Tom  seized  him  and  said: 

"Aunt  Polly,  it  ain't  fair.  Somebody's  got  to  be 
glad  to  see  Huck." 

"And  so  they  shall.     I'm  glad  to  see  him,  poor 

motherless  thing!"     And  the  loving  attentions  Aunt 

Polly  lavished  upon  him  were  the  one  thing  capable 

of  making  him  more  uncomfortable  than  he  was 

•     before. 

152 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

Suddenly  the  minister  shouted  at  the  top  of  his 
voice:  "Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow 
— SING! — and  put  your  hearts  in  it!" 

And  they  did.  Old  Hundred  swelled  up  with  a 
triumphant  burst,  and  while  it  shook  the  rafters 
Tom  Sawyer  the  Pirate  looked  around  upon  the 
envying  juveniles  about  him  and  confessed  in  his 
heart  that  this  was  the  proudest  moment  of  his  life. 

As  the  "sold"  congregation  trooped  out  they  said 
they  would  almost  be  willing  to  be  made  ridiculous 
again  to  hear  Old  Hundred  sung  like  that  once  more. 

Tom  got  more  cuffs  and  kisses  that  day — accord 
ing  to  Aunt  Polly's  varying  moods — than  he  had 
earned  before  in  a  year;  and  he  hardly  knew  which 
expressed  the  most  gratefulness  to  God  and  affection 
for  himself. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

HPHAT  was  Tom's  great  secret — the  scheme  to  re- 
1  turn  home  with  his  brother  pirates  and  attend 
their  own  funerals.  They  had  paddled  over  to  the 
Missouri  shore  on  a  log,  at  dusk  on  Saturday,  land 
ing  five  or  six  miles  below  the  village;  they  had  slept 
in  the  woods  at  the  edge  of  the  town  till  nearly  day 
light,  and  had  then  crept  through  back  lanes  and 
alleys  and  finished  their  sleep  in  the  gallery  of  the 
church  among  a  chaos  of  invalided  benches. 

At  breakfast,  Monday  morning,  Aunt  Polly  and 
Mary  were  very  loving  to  Tom,  and  very  attentive 
to  his  wants.  There  was  an  unusual  amount  of  talk. 
In  the  course  of  it  Aunt  Polly  said: 

"Well,  I  don't  say  it  wasn't  a  fine  joke,  Tom,  to 
keep  everybody  suffering  'most  a  week  so  you  boys 
had  a  good  time,  but  it  is  a  pity  you  could  be  so 
hard-hearted  as  to  let  me  suffer  so.  If  you  could 
come  over  on  a  log  to  go  to  your  funeral,  you  could 
have  come  over  and  give  me  a  hint  some  way  that 
you  warn't  dead,  but  only  run  off." 

"Yes,  you  could  have  done  that,  Tom,"  said 
Mary;  "and  I  believe  you  would  if  you  had  thought 
of  it." 

"Would  you,  Tom?"  said  Aunt  Polly,  her  face 
lighting  wistfully.  "Say,  now,  would  you,  if  you'd 
thought  of  it?" 

154 


ADVENTURES    OF     TOM     SAWYER 

"I  —  well,  I  don't  know.  Twould  'a'  spoiled 
everything." 

"Tom,  I  hoped  you  loved  me  that  much,"  said 
Aunt  Polly,  with  a  grieved  tone  that  discomforted 
the  boy.  "It  would  have  been  something  if  you'd 
cared  enough  to  think  of  it,  even  if  you  didn't  do 
it." 

"Now,  auntie,  that  ain't  any  harm,"  pleaded 
Mary;  "it's  only  Tom's  giddy  way — he  is  always 
in  such  a  rush  that  he  never  thinks  of  anything." 

"More's  the  pity.  Sid  would  have  thought. 
And  Sid  would  have  come  and  done  it,  too.  Tom, 
you'll  look  back,  some  day,  when  it's  too  late,  and 
wish  you'd  cared  a  little  more  for  me  when  it  would 
have  cost  you  so  little." 

"Now,  auntie,  you  know  I  do  care  for  you,"  said 
Tom. 

"I'd  know  it  better  if  you  acted  more  like  it." 

"I  wish  now  I'd  thought,"  said  Tom,  with  a 
repentant  tone;  "but  I  dreamed  about  you,  anyway. 
That's  something,  ain't  it?" 

"It  ain't  much — a  cat  does  that  much — but  it's 
better  than  nothing.  What  did  you  dream?" 

"Why,  Wednesday  night  I  dreamt  that  you  was 
sitting  over  there  by  the  bed,  and  Sid  was  sitting 
by  the  woodbox,  and  Mary  next  to  him." 

"Well,  so  we  did.  So  we  always  do.  I'm  glad 
your  dreams  could  take  even  that  much  trouble 
about  us." 

"And  I  dreamt  that  Joe  Harper's  mother  was 
here." 

"Why,  she  was  here!    Did  you  dream  any  more?" 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Oh,  lots.     But  it's  so  dim,  now." 

"Well,  try  to  recollect— can't  you?" 

"Somehow  it  seems  to  me  that  the  wind — the 
wind  bio  wed  the — the — " 

"Try  harder,  Tom!  The  wind  did  blow  some 
thing.  Come!" 

Tom  pressed  his  fingers  on  his  forehead  an  anxious 
minute,  and  then  said : 

"I've  got  it  now!  I've  got  it  now!  It  blowed 
the  candle!" 

"Mercy  on  us!     Go  on,  Tom — go  on!" 

"And  it  seems  to  me  that  you  said,  'Why,'  I  be 
lieve  that  that  door—'" 

"Goon,  Tom!" 

"Just  let  me  study  a  moment — just  a  moment. 
Oh,  yes — you  said  you  believed  the  door  was  open." 

"As  I'm  sitting  here,  I  did!  Didn't  I,  Mary! 
Go  on!" 

"And  then — and  then — well  I  won't  be  certain, 
but  it  seems  like  as  if  you  made  Sid  go  and — and— 

"Well?  Well?  What  did  I  make  him  do,  Tom? 
What  did  I  make  him  do?" 

"You  made  him  —  you  —  Oh,  you  made  him 
shut  it." 

"Well,  for  the  land's  sake!  I  never  heard  the 
beat  of  that  in  all  my  days!  Don't  tell  me  there 
ain't  anything  in  dreams,  any  more.  Sereny  Harper 
shall  know  of  this  before  I'm  an  hour  older.  I'd 
like  to  see  her  get  around  this  with  her  rubbage  'bout 
superstition.  Go  on,  Tom!" 

"Oh,  it's  all  getting  just  as  bright  as  day,  now. 
Next  you  said  I  warn't  bad,  only  mischeevous  and 

156 


ADVENTURES     OF    TOM     SAWYER 

harum-scarum,  and  not  any  more  responsible  than 
— than — I  think  it  was  a  colt,  or  something." 

"And  so  it  was!  Well,  goodness  gracious!  Go 
on,  Tom!'1 

"And  then  you  began  to  cry." 

"So  I  did.  So  I  did.  Not  the  first  time,  neither. 
And  then—" 

"Then  Mrs.  Harper  she  began  to  cry,  and  said 
Joe  was  just  the  same,  and  she  wished  she  hadn't 
whipped  him  for  taking  cream  when  she'd  thro  wed 
it  out  her  own  self — " 

"Tom!  The  sperrit  was  upon  you!  You  was 
a-prophesying — that's  what  you  was  doing!  Land 
alive,  go  on,  Tom!" 

"Then  Sid  he  said— he  said—" 

"I  don't  think  I  said  anything,"  said  Sid. 

"Yes  you  did,  Sid,"  said  Mary. 

"Shut  your  heads  and  let  Tom  go  on!  What  did 
he  say,  Tom?" 

"He  said —  I  think  he  said  he  hoped  I  was  better 
off  where  I  was  gone  to,  but  if  I'd  been  better  some 
times—" 

"There,  d'you  hear  that!    It  was  his  very  words!" 

"And  you  shut  him  up  sharp." 

"I  lay  I  did!  There  must  'a'  been  an  angel  there. 
There  was  an  angel  there,  somewheres!" 

"And  Mrs.  Harper  told  about  Joe  scaring  her 
with  a  firecracker,  and  you  told  about  Peter  and  the 
Pain-killer—" 

"Just  as  true  as  I  live!" 

"And  then  there  was  a  whole  lot  of  talk  'bout 
dragging  the  river  for  us,  and  'bout  having  the 


MARK     TWAIN 

funeral  Sunday,  and  then  you  and  old  Miss  Harper 
hugged  and  cried,  and  she  went.'\ 

"It  happened  just  so!  It  happened  just  so,  as 
sure  as  I'm  a-sitting  in  these  very  tracks.  Tom,  you 
couldn't  told  it  more  like,  if  you'd  'a'  seen  it!  And 
then  what?  Go  on,  Tom!" 

"Then  I  thought  you  prayed  for  me — and  I  could 
see  you  and  hear  every  word  you  said.  And  you 
went  to  bed,  and  I 'was  so  sorry,  that  I  took  and 
wrote  on  a  piece  of  sycamore  bark,  'We  ain't  dead 
—we  are  only  off  being  pirates,'  and  put  it  on  the 
table  by  the  candle;  and  then  you  looked  so  good, 
laying  there  asleep,  that  I  thought  I  went  and 
leaned  over  and  kissed  you  on  the  lips.'* 

"Did  you,  Tom,  did  you!  I  just  forgive  you 
everything  for  that!'*  And  she  seized  the  boy  in 
a  crushing  embrace  that  made  him  feel  like  the 
guiltiest  of  villains. 

"It  was  very  kind,  even  though  it  was  only  a — 
dream,"  Sid  soliloquized  just  audibly. 

"Shut  up,  Sid!  A  body  does  just  the  same  in  a 
dream  as  he'd  do  if  he  was  awake.  Here's  a  big 
Milum  apple  I've  been  saving  for  you,  Tom,  if  you 
was  ever  found  again — now  go  'long  to  .school. 
I'm  thankful  to  the  good  God  and  Father  of  us  all 
I've  got  you  back,  that's  long-suffering  and  merciful 
to  them  that  believe  on  Him  and  keep  His  word, 
though  goodness  knows  I'm  unworthy  of  it,  but  if 
only  the  worthy  ones  got  His  blessings  and  had  His 
hand  to  help  them  over  the  rough  places,  there's 
few  enough  would  smile  here  or  ever  enter  into  His 
rest  when  the  long  night  comes.  Go  'long,  Sid,  Mary, 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

Tom — take  yourselves  off — you've  hendered  me  long 
enough." 

The  children  left  for  school,  and  the  old  lady  to 
call  on  Mrs.  Harper  and  vanquish  her  realism  with 
Tom's  marvelous  dream.  Sid  had  better  judgment 
than  to  utter  the  thought  that  was  in  his  mind  as 
he  left  the  house.  It  was  this : ' '  Pretty  thin — as  long 
a  dream  as  that,  without  any  mistakes  in  it!" 

What  a  hero  Tom  was  become,  now!  He  did  not 
go  skipping  and  prancing,  but  moved  with  a  digni 
fied  swagger  as  became  a  pirate  who  felt  that  the 
public  eye  was  on  him.  And  indeed  it  was ;  he  tried 
not  to  seem  to  see  the  looks  or  hear  the  remarks  as 
he  passed  along,  but  they  were  food  and  drink  to 
him.  \Smaller  boys  than  himself  flocked  at  his 
heels,  as  proud  to  be  seen  with  him,  and  tolerated 
by  him,  as  if  he  had  been  the  drummer  at  the  head 
of  a  procession  or  the  elephant  leading  a  menagerie 
into  town.  Boys  of  his  own  size  pretended  not  to 
know  he  had  been  away  at  all;  but  they  were  con 
suming  with  envy,  nevertheless.  They  would  have 
given  anything  to  have  that  swarthy,  sun-tanned 
skin  of  his,  and  his  glittering  notoriety;  and  Tom 
would  not  have  parted  with  either  for  a  circus. 

At  school  the  children  made  so  much  of  him  and 
of  Joe,  and  delivered  such  eloquent  admiration  from 
their  eyes,  that  the  two  heroes  were  not  long  in  be 
coming  insufferably  " stuck  up."  They  began  to 
tell  their  adventures  to  hungry  listeners — but  they 
only  began;  it  was  not  a  thing  likely  to  have  an  end, 
with  imaginations  like  theirs  to  furnish  material. 
And  finally,  when  they  got  out  their  pipes  and  went 


MARK    TWAIN 

serenely  puffing  around,  the  very  summit  of  glory 
was  reached. 

Tom  decided  that  he  could  be  independent  of 
Becky  Thatcher  now.  Glory  was  sufficient.  He 
would  live  for  glory.  Now  that  he  was  distinguished, 
maybe  she  would  be  wanting  to  "make  up."  Well, 
let  her — she  should  see  that  he  could  be  as  indiffer 
ent  as  some  other  people.  Presently  she  arrived. 
Tom  pretended  not  to  see  her.  He  moved  away 
and  joined  a  group  of  boys  and  girls  and  began  to 
talk.  Soon  he  observed  that  she  was  tripping  gaily 
back  and  forth  with  flushed  face  and  dancing  eyes, 
pretending  to  be  busy  chasing  schoolmates,  and 
screaming  with  laughter  when  she  made  a  capture; 
but  he  noticed  that  she  always  made  her  captures 
in  his  vicinity,  and  that  she  seemed  to  cast  a  con 
scious  eye  in  his  direction  at  such  times,  too.  It 
gratified  all  the  vicious  vanity  that  was  in  him;  and 
so,  instead  of  winning  him,  it  only  "set  him  up" 
the  more  and  made  him  the  more  diligent  to  avoid 
betraying  that  he  knew  she  was  about.  Presently 
she  gave  over  skylarking,  and  moved  irresolutely 
about,  sighing  once  or  twice  and  glancing  furtively 
and  wistfully  toward  Tom.  Then  she  observed  that 
now  Tom  was  talking  more  particularly  to  Amy 
Lawrence  than  to  any  one  else.  She  felt  a  sharp 
pang  and  grew  disturbed  and  uneasy  at  once.  She 
tried  to  go  away,  but  her  feet  were  treacherous,  and 
carried  her  to  the  group  instead.  She  said  to  a  girl 
almost  at  Tom's  elbow — with  sham  vivacity: 

"Why,  Mary  Austin!  you  bad  girl,  why  didn't 
you  come  to  Sunday-school?'1 

1 60 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

"I  did  come — didn't  you  see  me?" 
"Why,  no!     Did  you?    Where  did  you  sit?" 
1 '  I  was  in  Miss  Peters's  class,  where  I  always  go. 
I  saw  you." 

"Did  you?  Why,  it's  funny  I  didn't  see  you.  I 
wanted  to  tell  you  about  the  picnic." 

"Oh,  that's  jolly.     Who's  going  to  give  it?" 
"My  ma's  going  to  let  me  have  one." 
"Oh,  goody;  I  hope  she'll  let  me  come." 
"Well,  she  will.     The  picnic's  for  me.     She'll  let 
anybody  come  that  I  want,  and  I  want  you." 
"That's  ever  so  nice.     When  is  it  going  to  be?" 
"By  and  by.     Maybe  about  vacation." 
"Oh,  won't  it  be  fun!    You  going  to  have  all  the 
girls  and  boys?" 

"Yes,  every  one  that's  friends  to  me — or  wants 
to  be";   and  she  glanced  ever  so  furtively  at  Tom, 
but  he  talked  right  along  to  Amy  Lawrence  about 
the  terrible  storm  on  the  island,  and  how  the  light 
ning  tore  the  great  sycamore  tree  "all  to  flinders" 
while  he  was  "standing  within  three  feet  of  it." 
"Oh,  may  I  come?"  said  Gracie  Miller. 
"Yes." 

"And  me?"  said  Sally  Rogers. 
"Yes." 

"And  me,  too?"  said  Susy  Harper.    "And  Joe?" 
"Yes." 

And  so  on,  with  clapping  of  joyful  hands  till  all 
the  group  had  begged  for  invitations  but  Tom  and 
Amy.  Then  Tom  turned  coolly  away,  still  talking, 
and  took  Amy  with  him.  Becky's  lips  trembled  and 
the  tears  came  to  her  eyes ;  she  hid  these  signs  with 

161 


MARK    TWAIN 

a  forced  gaiety  and  went  on  chattering,  but  the  life 
had  gone  out  of  the  picnic,  now,  and  out  of  every 
thing  else;  she  got  away  as  soon  as  she  could  and 
hid  herself  and  had  what  her  sex  call  "a  good  cry." 
Then  she  sat  moody,  with  wounded  pride,  till  the 
bell  rang.  She  roused  up,  now,  with  a  vindictive 
cast  in  her  eye,  and  gave  her  plaited  tails  a  shake 
and  said  she  knew  what  she'd  do. 

At  recess  Tom  continued  his  flirtation  with  Amy 
with  jubilant  self-satisfaction.  And  he  kept  drifting 
about  to  find  Becky  and  lacerate  her  with  the  per 
formance.  At  last  he  spied  her,  but  there  was  a 
sudden  falling  of  his  mercury.  She  was  sitting 
cozily  on  a  little  bench  behind  the  school-house  look 
ing  at  a  picture-book  with  Alfred  Temple — and  so 
absorbed  were  they,  and  their  heads  so  close  together 
over  the  book,  that  they  did  not  seem  to  be  con 
scious  of  anything  in  the  world  besides.  Jealousy 
ran  red-hot  through  Tom's  veins.  He  began  to 
hate  himself  for  throwing  away  the  chance  Becky 
had  offered  for  a  reconciliation.  He  called  himself 
a  fool,  and  all  the  hard  names  he  could  think  of. 
He  wanted  to  cry  with  vexation.  Amy  chatted 
happily  along,  as  they  walked,  for  her  heart  was 
singing,  but  Tom's  tongue  had  lost  its  function. 
He  did  not  hear  what  Amy  was  saying,  and  when 
ever  she  paused  expectantly  he  could  only  stammer 
an  awkward  assent,  which  was  as  often  misplaced  as 
otherwise.  He  kept  drifting  to  the  rear  of  the 
school-house,  again  and  again,  to  sear  his  eyeballs 
with  the  hateful  spectacle  there.  He  could  not  help 
it.  And  it  maddened  him  to  see,  as  he  thought  he 

162 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

saw,  that  Becky  Thatcher  never  once  suspected  that 
he  was  even  in  the  land  of  the  living.  But  she  did 
see,  nevertheless;  and  she  knew  she  was  winning 
her  fight,  too,  and  was  glad  to  see  him  suffer  as  she 
had  suffered. 

Amy's  happy  prattle  became  intolerable.  Tom 
hinted  at  things  he  had  to  attend  to;  things  that 
must  be  done;  and  time  was  fleeting.  But  in  vain 
— the  girl  chirped  on.  Tom  thought,  "Oh,  hang 
her,  ain't  I  ever  going  to  get  rid  of  her?"  At  last 
he  must  be  attending  to  those  things — and  she  said 
artlessly  that  she  would  be  "around"  when  school 
let  out.  And  he  hastened  away,  hating  her  for  it. 

"Any  other  boy!"  Tom  thought,  grating  his 
teeth.  "Any  boy  in  the  whole  town  but  that  Saint 
Louis  smarty  that  thinks  he  dresses  so  fine  and  is 
aristocracy!  Oh,  all  right,  I  licked  you  the  first 
day  you  ever  saw  this  town,  mister,  and  I'll  lick  you 
again!  You  just  wait  till  I  catch  you  out!  I'll 
just  take  and — " 

And  he  went  through  the  motions  of  thrashing  an 
imaginary  boy — pummeling  the  air,  and  kicking 
and  gouging.  "Oh,  you  do,  do  you?  You  holler 
'nough,  do  you?  Now,  then,  let  that  learn  you!" 
And  so  the  imaginary  flogging  was  finished  to  his 
satisfaction. . 

Tom  fled  home  at  noon.  His  conscience  could 
not  endure  any  more  of  Amy's  grateful  happiness, 
and  his  jealousy  could  bear  no  more  of  the  other 
distress.  Becky  resumed  her  picture  inspections  with 
Alfred,  but  as  the  minutes  dragged  along  and  no 
Tom  came  to  suffer,  her  triumph  began  to  cloud  and 

163 


MARK     TWAIN 

she  lost  interest ;  gravity  and  absent-mindedness  fol 
lowed,  and  then  melancholy ;  two  or  three  times  she 
pricked  up  her  ear  at  a  footstep,  but  it  was  a  false 
hope;  no  Tom  came.  At  last  she  grew  entirely 
miserable  and  wished  she  hadn't  carried  it  so  far. 
When  poor  Alfred,  seeing  that  he  was  losing  her, 
he  did  not  know  how,  kept  exclaiming:  "Oh,  here's 
a  jolly  one!  look  at  this!"  she  lost  patience  at  last, 
and  said,  "Oh,  don't  bother  me!  I  don't  care  for 
them!"  and  burst  into  tears,  and  got  up  and  walked 
away. 

Alfred  dropped  alongside  and  was  going  to  try  to 
comfort  her,  but  she  said: 

"Go  away  and  leave  me  alone,  can't  you!  I  hate 
you!" 

So  the  boy  halted,  wondering  what  he  could  have 
done — for  she  had  said  she  would  look  at  pictures 
all  through  the  nooning — and  she  walked  on,  crying. 
Then  Alfred  went  musing  into  the  deserted  school- 
house.  He  was  humiliated  and  angry.  He  easily 
guessed  his  way  to  the  truth — the  girl  had  simply 
made  a  convenience  of  him  to  vent  her  spite  upon 
Tom  Sawyer.  He  was  far  from  hating  Tom  the 
less  when  this  thought  occurred  to  him.  He  wished 
there  was  some  way  to  get  that  boy  into  trouble 
without  much  risk  to  himself.  Tom's  spelling-book 
fell  under  his  eye.  Here  was  his  opportunity.  He 
gratefully  opened  to  the  lesson  for  the  afternoon  and 
poured  ink  upon  the  page. 

Becky,  glancing  in  at  a  window  behind  him  at 
the  moment,  saw  the  act,  and  moved  on,  without 
discovering  herself.  She  started  homeward,  now, 

164 


ADVENTURES    OF     TOM    SAWYER 

intending  to  find  Tom  and  tell  him;  Tom  would  be 
thankful  and  their  troubles  would  be  healed.  Before 
she  was  half-way  home,  however,  she  had  changed 
her  mind.  The  thought  of  Tom's  treatment  of  her 
when  she  was  talking  about  her  picnic  came  scorch 
ing  back  and  filled  her  with  shame.  She  resolved 
to  let  him  get  whipped  on  the  damaged  spelling- 
book's  account,  and  to  hate  him  forever,  into  the 
bargain. 

12 


CHAPTER  XIX 

TOM  arrived  at  home  in  a  dreary  mood,  and  the 
first  thing  his  aunt  said  to  him  showed  him  that 
he  had  brought  his  sorrows  to  an  unpromising 
market : 

"Tom,  I've  a  notion  to  skin  you  alive!" 

"Auntie,  what  have  I  done?" 

"Well,  you've  done  enough.  Here  I  go  ever  to 
Sereny  Harper,  like  an  old  softy,  expecting  I'm  going 
to  make  her  believe  all  that  rubbage  about  that 
dream,  when  lo  and  behold  you  she'd  found  out 
from  Joe  that  you  was  over  here  and  heard  all  the 
talk  we  had  that  night.  Tom,  I  don't  know  what 
is  to  become  of  a  boy  that  will  act  like  that.  It 
makes  me  feel  so  bad  to  think  you  could  let  me  go 
to  Sereny  Harper  and  make  such  a  fool  of  myself 
and  never  say  a  word." 

This  was  a  new  aspect  of  the  thing.  His  smart 
ness  of  the  morning  had  seemed  to  Tom  a  good 
joke  before,  and  very  ingenious.  It  merely  looked 
mean  and  shabby  now.  He  hung  his  head  and  could 
not  think  of  anything  to  say  for  a  moment.  Then 
he  said: 

"Auntie,  I  wish  I  hadn't  done  it — but  I  didn't 
think." 

"Oh,  child,  you  never  think.  You  never  think 

1 66 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

of  anything  but  your  own  selfishness.  You  could 
think  to  come  all  the  way  over  here  from  Jackson's 
Island  in  the  night  to  laugh  at  our  troubles,  and  you 
could  think  to  fool  me  with  a  lie  about  a  dream;  but 
you  couldn't  ever  think  to  pity  us  and  save  us  from 


sorrow." 


"Auntie,  I  know  now  it  was  mean,  but  I  didn't 
mean  to  be  mean.  I  didn't,  honest.  And  besides, 
I  didn't  come  over  here  to  laugh  at  you  that  night." 

"What  did  you  come  for,  then?" 

"It  was  to  tell  you  not  to  be  uneasy  about  us, 
because  we  hadn't  got  drown ded." 

"Tom,  Tom,  I  would  be  the  thankfulest  soul  in 
this  world  if  I  could  believe  you  ever  had  as  good 
a  thought  as  that,  but  you  know  you  never  did — 
and  I  know  it,  Tom." 

"Indeed  and  'deed  I  did,  auntie — I  wish  I  may 
never  stir  if  I  didn't." 

"Oh,  Tom,  don't  lie— don't  do  it.  It  only  makes 
things  a  hundred  times  worse." 

"It  ain't  a  lie,  auntie,  it's  the  truth.  I  wanted 
to  keep  you  from  grieving — that  was  all  that  made 


me  come." 


"I'd  give  the  whole  world  to  believe  that — it 
would  cover  up  a  power  of  sins,  Tom.  I'd  'most  be 
glad  you'd  run  off  and  acted  so  bad.  But  it  ain't 
reasonable;  because,  why  didn't  you  tell  me,  child?" 

"Why,  you  see,  when  you  got  to  talking  about 
the  funeral,  I  just  got  all  full  of  the  idea  of  our  com 
ing  and  hiding  in  the  church,  and  I  couldn't  some 
how  bear  to  spoil  it.  So  I  just  put  the  bark  back  in 
my  pocket  and  kept  mum." 

167 


MARK    TWAIN 

"What  bark?" 

"The  bark  I  had  wrote  on  to  tell  you  we'd  gone 
pirating.  I  wish,  now,  you'd  waked  up  when  I 
kissed  you — I  do,  honest." 

The  hard  lines  in  his  aunt's  face  relaxed  and  a 
sudden  tenderness  dawned  in  her  eyes. 

" Did  you  kiss  me,  Tom?" 

"Why,  yes,  I  did." 

"Are  you  sure  you  did,  Tom?" 

"Why,  yes,  I  did,  auntie — certain  sure." 

"What  did  you  kiss  me  for,  Tom?" 

"Because  I  loved  you  so,  and  you  laid  there 
moaning  and  I  was  so  sorry." 

The  words  sounded  like  truth.  The  old  lady  could 
not  hide  a  tremor  in  her  voice  when  she  said: 

"Kiss  me  again,  Tom! — and  be  off  with  you  to, 
school,  now,  and  don't  bother  me  any  more." 

The  moment  he  was  gone,  she  ran  to  a  closet  and 
got  out  the  ruin  of  a  jacket  which  Tom  had  gone 
pirating  in.  Then  she  stopped,  with  it  in  her  hand, 
and  said  to  herself: 

"No,  I  don't  dare.  Poor  boy,  I  reckon  he's  lied 
about  it — but  it's  a  blessed,  blessed  lie,  there's 
such  a  comfort  come  from  it.  I  hope  the  Lord — I 
know  the  Lord  will  forgive  him,  because  it  was  such 
goodheartedness  in  him  to  tell  it.  But  I  don't  want 
to  find  out  it's  a  lie.  I  won't  look." 

She  put  the  jacket  away,  and  stood  by  musing  a 
minute.  Twice  she  put  out  her  hand  to  take  the 
garment  again,  and  twice  she  refrained.  Once  more 
she  ventured,  and  this  time  she  fortified  herself  with 
the  thought:  "It's  a  good  lie — it's  a  good  lie — I 

168 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

won't  let  it  grieve  me."  So  she  sought  the  jacket 
pocket.  A  moment  later  she  was  reading  Tom's 
piece  of  bark  through  flowing  tears  and  saying:  "I 
could  forgive  the  boy,  now,  if  he'd  committed  a 
million  sins!" 


CHAPTER  XX 

THERE  was  something  about  Aunt  Polly's  man 
ner,  when  she  kissed  Tom,  that  swept  away  his 
low  spirits  and  made  him  light-hearted  and  happy 
again.  He  started  to  school  and  had  the  luck  of 
coming  upon  Becky  Thatcher  at  the  head  of  Meadow 
Lane.  His  mood  always  determined  his  manner. 
Without  a  moment's  hesitation  he  ran  to  her  and 
said: 

1  'I  acted  mighty  mean  to-day,  Becky,  and  I'm  so 
sorry.  I  won't  ever,  ever  do  that  way  again,  as  long 
as  ever  I  live — please  make  up,  won't  you?" 

The  girl  stopped  and  looked  him  scornfully  in  the 
face: 

''I'll  thank  you  to  keep  yourself  to  yourself,  Mr. 
Thomas  Sawyer.  I'll  never  speak  to  you  again." 

She  tossed  her  head  and  passed  on.  Tom  was  so 
stunned  that  he  had  not  even  presence  of  mind 
enough  to  say  "Who  cares,  Miss  Smarty?"  until 
the  right  time  to  say  it  had  gone  by.  So  he  said 
nothing.  But  he  was  in  a  fine  rage,  nevertheless. 
He  moped  into  the  schoolyard  wishing  she  were  a 
boy,  and  imagining  how  he  would  trounce  her  if  she 
were.  He  presently  encountered  her  and  delivered 
a  stinging  remark  as  he  passed.  She  hurled  one  in 
return,  and  the  angry  breach  was  complete.  It 

170 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

seemed  to  Becky,  in  her  hot  resentment,  that  she 
could  hardly  wait  for  school  to  "take  in,"  she  was  so 
impatient  to  see  Tom  flogged  for  the  injured  spelling- 
book.  If  she  had  had  any  lingering  notion  of  ex 
posing  Alfred  Temple,  Tom's  offensive  fling  had 
driven  it  entirely  away. 

Poor  girl,  she  did  not  know  how  fast  she  was 
nearing  trouble  herself.  The  master,  Mr.  Dobbins, 
had  reached  middle  age  with  an  unsatisfied  ambition. 
The  darling  of  his  desires  was  to  be  a  doctor,  but 
poverty  had  decreed  that  he  should  be  nothing 
higher  than  a  village  schoolmaster.  Every  day  he 
took  a  mysterious  book  out  of  his  desk  and  absorbed 
himself  in  it  at  times  when  no  classes  were  reciting. 
He  kept  that  book  under  lock  and  key.  There  was 
not  an  urchin  in  school  but  was  perishing  to  have  a 
glimpse  of  it,  but  the  chance  never  came.  Every 
boy  and  girl  had  a  theory  about  the  nature  of  that 
book;  but  no  two  theories  were  alike,  and  there  was 
no  way  of  getting  at  the  facts  in  the  case.  Now,  as 
Becky  was  passing  by  the  desk,  which  stood  near 
the  door,  she  noticed  that  the  key  was  in  the  lock! 
It  was  a  precious  moment.  She  glanced  around; 
found  herself  alone,  and  the  next  instant  she  had 
the  book  in  her  hands.  The  title-page — Professor 
Somebody's  Anatomy  —  carried  no  information  to 
her  mind;  so  she  began  to  turn  the  leaves.  She 
came  at  once  upon  a  handsomely  engraved  and 
colored  frontispiece — a  human  figure,  stark  naked. 
At  that  moment  a  shadow  fell  on  the  page  and  Tom 
Sawyer  stepped  in  at  the  door,  and  caught  a  glimpse 
of  the  picture.  Becky  snatched  at  the  book  to  close 

171 


MARK    TWAIN 

it,  and  had  the  hard  luck  to  tear  the  pictured  plate 
half  down  the  middle.  She  thrust  the  volume  into 
the  desk,  turned  the  key,  and  burst  out  crying  with 
shame  and  vexation. 

"Tom  Sawyer,  you  are  just  as  mean  as  you  can 
be,  to  sneak  up  on  a  person  and  look  at  what  they're 
looking  at." 

"How  could  I  know  you  was  looking  at  any 
thing?" 

"You  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,  Tom 
Sawyer;  you  know  you're  going  to  tell  on  me,  and 
oh,  what  shall  I  do,  what  shall  I  do !  I'll  be  whipped, 
and  I  never  was  whipped  in  school." 

Then  she  stamped  her  little  foot  and  said : 

"Be  so  mean  if  you  want  to!  I  know  something 
that's  going  to  happen.  You  just  wait  and  you'll 
see!  Hateful,  hateful,  hateful!" — and  she  flung  out 
of  the  house  with  a  new  explosion  of  crying. 

Tom  stood  still,  rather  flustered  by  this  onslaught. 
Presently  he  said  to  himself: 

"What  a  curious  kind  of  a  fool  a  girl  is.  Never 
been  licked  in  school!  Shucks.  What's  a  licking! 
That's  just  like  a  girl — they're  so  thin-skinned  and 
chicken-hearted.  Well,  of  course  /  ain't  going  to 
tell  old  Dobbins  on  this  little  fool,  because  there's 
other  ways  of  getting  even  on  her  that  ain't  so 
mean;  but  what  of  it?  Old  Dobbins  will  ask  who 
it  was  tore  his  book.  Nobody  '11  answer.  Then 
he'll  do  just  the  way  he  always  does — ask  first  one 
and  then  t'other,  and  when  he  comes  to  the  right 
girl  he'll  know  it,  without  any  telling.  Girls'  faces 
always  tell  on  them.  They  ain't  got  any  backbone. 

172 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

She'll  get  licked.  Well,  it's  a  kind  of  a  tight  place 
for  Becky  Thatcher,  because  there  ain't  any  way  out 
of  it."  Tom  conned  the  thing  a  moment  longer 
and  then  added:  "All  right,  though;  she'd  like  to 
see  me  in  just  such  a  fix — let  her  sweat  it  out!" 

Tom  joined  the  mob  of  skylarking  scholars  out 
side.  In  a  few  moments  the  master  arrived  and 
school  "took  in."  Tom  did  not  feel  a  strong  interest 
in  his  studies.  Every  time  he  stole  a  glance  at 
the  girls'  side  of  the  room  Becky's  face  troubled 
him.  Considering  all  things,  he  did  not  want  to 
pity  her,  and  yet  it  was  all  he  could  do  to  help  it. 
He  could  get  up  no  exultation  that  was  really 
worthy  the  name.  Presently  the  spelling-book  dis 
covery  was  made,  and  Tom's  mind  was  entirely  full 
of  his  own  matters  for  a  while  after  that.  Becky 
roused  up  from  her  lethargy  of  distress  and  showed 
good  interest  in  the  proceedings.  She  did  not  ex 
pect  that  Tom  could  get  out  of  his  trouble  by 
denying  that  he  spilt  the  ink  on  the  book  himself; 
and  she  was  right.  The  denial  only  seemed  to  make 
the  thing  worse  for  Tom.  Becky  supposed  she 
would  be  glad  of  that,  and  she  tried  to  believe  she 
was  glad  of  it,  but  she  found  she  was  not  certain. 
When  the  worst  came  to  the  worst,  she  had  an  im 
pulse  to  get  up  and  tell  on  Alfred  Temple,  but  she 
made  an  effort  and  forced  herself  to  keep  still — 
because,  said  she  to  herself,  "he'll  tell  about  me 
tearing  the  picture  sure.  I  wouldn't  say  a  word, 
not  to  save  his  life!" 

Tom  took  his  whipping  and  went  back  to  his  seat 
not  at  all  broken-hearted,  for  he  thought  it  was  pos- 

173 


MARK     TWAIN 

sible  that  he  had  unknowingly  upset  the  ink  on  the 
spelling-book  himself,  in  some  skylarking  bout — he 
had  denied  it  for  form's  sake  and  because  it  was 
custom,  and  had  stuck  to  the  denial  from  principle. 

A  whole  hour  drifted  by,  the  master  sat  nodding 
in  his  throne,  the  air  was  drowsy  with  the  hum  of 
study.  By  and  by,  Mr.  Dobbins  straightened  him 
self  up,  yawned,  then  unlocked  his  desk,  and  reached 
for  his  book,  but  seemed  undecided  whether  to  take 
it  out  or  leave  it.  Most  of  the  pupils  glanced  up 
languidly,  but  there  were  two  among  them  that 
watched  his  movements  with  intent  eyes.  Mr.  Dob 
bins  fingered  his  book  absently  for  a  while,  then 
took  it  out  and  settled  himself  in  his  chair  to  read! 
Tom  shot  a  glance  at  Becky.  He  had  seen  a  hunted 
and  helpless  rabbit  look  as  she  did,  with  a  gun 
leveled  at  its  head.  Instantly  he  forgot  his  quarrel 
with  her.  Quick — something  must  be  done!  done 
in  a  flash,  too!  But  the  very  imminence  of  the 
emergency  paralyzed  his  invention.  Good ! — he  had 
an  inspiration !  He  would  run  and  snatch  the  book, 
spring  through  the  door  and  fly.  But  his  resolu 
tion  shook  for  one  little  instant,  and  the  chance 
was  lost — the  master  opened  the  volume.  If  Tom 
only  had  the  wrasted  opportunity  back  again!  Too 
late.  There  was  no  help  for  Becky  now,  he  said. 
The  next  moment  the  master  faced  the  school. 
Every  eye  sank  under  his  gaze.  There  was  that 
in  it  which  smote  even  the  innocent  with  fear. 
There  was  silence  while  one  might  count  ten,  the 
master  was  gathering  his  wrath.  Then  he  spoke: 

"Who  tore  this  book?" 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

There  was  not  a  sound.  One  could  have  heard 
a  pin  drop.  The  stillness  continued;  the  master 
searched  face  after  face  for  signs  of  guilt. 

"  Benjamin  Rogers,  did  you  tear  this  book?'* 

A  denial.     Another  pause. 

"Joseph  Harper,  did  your" 

Another  denial.  Tom's  uneasiness  grew  more 
and  more  intense  under  the  slow  torture  of  these 
proceedings.  The  master  scanned  the  ranks  of  boys 
— considered  awhile,  then  turned  to  the  girls: 

"Amy  Lawrence?'1 

A  shake  of  the  head. 

"Grade  Miller?" 

The  same  sign. 

"Susan  Harper,  did  you  do  this?" 

Another  negative.  The  next  girl  was  Becky 
Thatcher.  Tom  was  trembling  from  head  to  foot 
with  excitement  and  a  sense  of  the  hopelessness  of 
the  situation. 

"Rebecca  Thatcher"  [Tom  glanced  at  her  face — 
it  was  white  with  terror] — "did  you  tear — no,  look 
me  in  the  face"  [her  hands  rose  in  appeal] — "did 
you  tear  this  book?" 

A  thought  shot  like  lightning  through  Tom's 
brain.  He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  shouted — "I 
done  it!" 

The  school  stared  in  perplexity  at  this  incredible 
folly.  Tom  stood  a  moment,  to  gather  his  dismem 
bered  faculties;  and  when  he  stepped  forward  to  go 
to  his  punishment  the  surprise,  the  gratitude,  the 
adoration  that  shone  upon  him  out  of  poor  Becky  s 
eyes  seemed  pay  enough  for  a  hundred  floggings. 


MARK    TWAIN 

Inspired  by  the  splendor  of  his  own  act,  he  took 
without  an  outcry  the  most  merciless  flaying  that 
even  Mr.  Dobbins  had  ever  administered;  and  also 
received  with  indifference  the  added  cruelty  of  a 
command  to  remain  two  hours  after  school  should 
be  dismissed — for  he  knew  who  would  wait  for  him 
outside  till  his  captivity  was  done,  and  not  count 
the  tedious  time  as  loss,  either. 

Tom  went  to  bed  that  night  planning  vengeance 
against  Alfred  Temple;  for  with  shame  and  repent 
ance  Becky  had  told  him  all,  not  forgetting  her  own 
treachery;  but  even  the  longing  for  vengeance  had 
to  give  way,  soon,  to  pleasanter  musings,  and  he 
fell  asleep  at  last,  with  Becky's  latest  words  lingering 
dreamily  in  his  ear — 

"Tom,  how  could  you  be  so  noble!" 


CHAPTER  XXI 

VACATION  was  approaching.  The  schoolmaster, 
always  severe,  grew  severer  and  more  exacting 
than  ever,  for  he  wanted  the  school  to  make  a  good 
showing  on  "Examination"  day.  His  rod  and  his 
ferule  were  seldom  idle  now — at  least  among  the 
smaller  pupils.  Only  the  biggest  boys,  and  young 
ladies  of  eighteen  and  twenty,  escaped  lashing.  Mr. 
Dobbins 's  lashings  were  very  vigorous  ones,  too;  for 
although  he  carried,  under  his  wig,  a  perfectly  bald 
and  shiny  head,  he'had  only  reached  middle  age  and 
there  was  no  sign  of  feebleness  in  his  muscle.  As 
the  great  day  approached,  all  the  tyranny  that  was 
in  him  came  to  the  surface;  he  seemed  to  take  a 
vindictive  pleasure  in  punishing  the  least  short 
comings.  The  consequence  was,  that  the  smaller 
boys  spent  their  days  in  terror  and  suffering  and 
their  nights  in  plotting  revenge.  They  threw  away 
no  opportunity  to  do  the  master  a  mischief.  But 
he  kept  ahead  all  the  time.  The  retribution  that 
followed  every  vengeful  success  was  so  sweeping 
and  majestic  that  the  boys  always  retired  from  the 
field  badly  worsted.  At  last  they  conspired  together 
and  hit  upon  a  plan  that  promised  a  dazzling  vic 
tory.  They  swore  in  the  sign-painter's  boy,  told 
him  the  scheme,  and  asked  his  help.  He  had  his 

177 


MARK    TWAIN 

own  reasons  for  being  delighted,  for  the  master 
boarded  in  his  father's  family  and  had  given  the 
boy  ample  cause  to  hate  him.  The  master's  wife 
would  go  on  a  visit  to  the  country  in  a  few  days, 
and  there  would  be  nothing  to  interfere  with  the 
plan;  the  master  always  prepared  himself  for  great 
occasions  by  getting  pretty  well  fuddled,  and  the 
sign-painter's  boy  said  that  when  the  dominie  had 
reached  the  proper  condition  on  Examination  Eve 
ning  he  would  "manage  the  thing"  while  he  napped 
in  his  chair;  then  he  would  have  him  awakened  at 
the  right  time  and  hurried  away  to  school. 

In  the  fullness  of  time  the  interesting  occasion 
arrived.  At  eight  in  the  evening  the  school-house 
was  brilliantly  lighted,  and  adorned  with  wreaths 
and  festoons  of  foliage  and  flowers.  The  master  sat 
throned  in  his  great  chair  upon  a  raised  platform, 
with  his  blackboard  behind  him.  He  was  looking 
tolerably  mellow.  Three  rows  of  benches  on  each 
side  and  six  rows  in  front  of  him  were  occupied  by 
the  dignitaries  of  the  town  and  by  the  parents  of 
the  pupils.  To  his  left,  back  of  the  rows  of  citizens, 
was  a  spacious  temporary  platform  upon  which  were 
seated  the  scholars  who  were  to  take  part  in  the 
exercises  of  the  evening;  rows  of  small  boys,  washed 
and  dressed  to  an  intolerable  state  of  discomfort; 
rows  of  gawky  big  boys;  snowbanks  of  girls  and 
young  ladies  clad  in  lawn  and  muslin  and  con 
spicuously  conscious  of  .their  bare  arms,  their  grand 
mothers'  ancient  trinkets,  their  bits  of  pink  and  blue 
ribbon  and  the  flowers  in  their  hair.  All  the  rest  of 
the  house  was  filled  with  non-participating  scholars. 

178 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYERjcr 

The  exercises  began.     A  very  little  boy  stood  up   j  Fj 
and  sheepishly  recited,   "You'd  scarce  expect  pnei 
of  my  age  to  speak  in  public  on  the  stage/'  etc. — 
accompanying  himself  with  the  painfully  exact  "and 
spasmodic  gestures  which  a  machine  might  have1 
used — supposing  the  machine  to  be  a  trifle  out  of, 
order.     But  he  got  through  safely,  though  cruelly 
scared,  and  got  a  fine  round  of  applause  when  he 
made  his  manufactured  bow  and  retired. 

A  little  shamefaced  girl  lisped  "Mary  had  a  little 
lamb,"  etc.,  performed  a  compassion-inspiring  curtsy, 
got  her  meed  of  applause,  and  sat  down  flushed 
.and  happy. 

Tom  Sawyer  stepped  forward  with  conceited  con 
fidence  and  soared  into  the  unquenchable  and  inde 
structible  "Give  me  liberty  or  give  me  death" 
speech,  with  fine  fury  and  frantic  gesticulation,  and 
broke  down  in  the  middle  of  it.  A  ghastly  stage- 
fright  seized  him,  his  legs  quaked  under  him  and  he 
was  like  to  choke.  True,  he  had  the  manifest  sym 
pathy  of  the  house — but  he  had  the  house's  silence, 
too,  which  was  even  worse  than  its  sympathy.  The 
master  frowned,  and  this  completed  the  disaster. 
Tom  struggled  awhile  and  then  retired,  utterly 
defeated.  There  was  a  weak  attempt  at  applause, 
but  it  died  early. 

"The  Boy  Stood  on  the  Burning  Deck"  followed; 
also  "The  Assyrian  Came  Down,"  and  other  de 
clamatory  gems.  Then  there  were  reading  exer 
cises  and  a  spelling-fight.  The  meager  Latin  class 
recited  with  honor.  The  prime  feature  of  the 
evening  was  in  order  now  —  original  "composi- 

179 


MARK    TWAIN 

tions"  by  the  young  ladies.  Each  in  her  turn 
stepped  forward  to  the  edge  of  the  platform,  cleared 
her  throat,  held  up  her  manuscript  (tied  with 
dainty  ribbon),  and  proceeded  to  read,  with  labored 
attention  to  "expression"  and  punctuation.  The 
themes  were  the  same  that  had  been  illuminated 
upon  similar  occasions  by  their  mothers  before  them, 
their  grandmothers,  and  doubtless  all  their  ancestors 
in  the  female  line  clear  back  to  the  Crusades. 
' '  Friendship '  *  was  one ;  * '  Memories  of  Other  Days ' ' ; 
" Religion  in  History";  "Dream  Land";  "The 
Advantages  of  Culture";  "Forms  of  Political  Gov 
ernment  Compared  and  Contrasted";  "Melan 
choly  " ;  "  Filial  Love  " ;  "  Heart  Longings, ' '  etc. ,  etc 
A  prevalent  feature  in  these  compositions  was 
a  nursed  and  petted  melancholy;  another  was  a 
wasteful  and  opulent  gush  of  "fine  language"; 
another  was  a  tendency  to  lug  in  by  the  ears  par 
ticularly  prized  words  and  phrases  until  they  were 
worn  entirely  out;  and  a  peculiarity  that  conspicu 
ously  marked  and  marred  them  was  the  inveterate 
and  intolerable  sermon  that  wagged  its  crippled  tail 
at  the  end  of  each  and  every  one  of  them.  No 
matter  what  the  subject  might  be,  a  brain-racking 
effort  was  made  to  squirm  it  into  some  aspect  or 
other  that  the  moral  and  religious  mind  could  con 
template  with  edification.  The  glaring  insincerity 
of  these  sermons  was  not  sufficient  to  compass  the 
banishment  of  the  fashion  from  the  schools,  and  it 
is  not  sufficient  to-day;  it  never  will  be  sufficient 
while  the  world  stands,  perhaps.  There  is  no  school 
in  all  our  land  where  the  young  ladies  do  not  feel 

180 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

obliged  to  close  their  compositions  with  a  sermon; 
and  you  will  find  that  the  sermon  of  the  most 
frivolous  and  the  least  religious  girl  in  the  school  is 
always  the  longest  and  the  most  relentlessly  pious. 
But  enough  of  this.  Homely  truth  is  unpalatable. 
Let  us  return  to  the  "Examination."  The  first 
composition  that  was  read  was  one  entitled  "Is 
this,  then,  Life?"  Perhaps  the  reader  can  endure 
an  extract  from  it : 

In  the  common  walks  of  life,  with  what  delightful  emotions 
does  the  youthful  mind  look  forward  to  some  anticipated  scene 
of  festivity!  Imagination  is  busy  sketching  rose-tinted  pictures 
of  joy.  In  fancy,  the  voluptuous  votary  of  fashion  sees  herself 
amid  the  festive  throng,  "the  observed  of  all  observers."  Her 
graceful  form,  arrayed  in  snowy  robes,  is  whirling  through  the 
mazes  of  the  joyous  'dance;  her  eye  is  brightest,  her  step  is 
lightest  in  the  gay  assembly. 

In  such  delicious  fancies  time  quickly  glides  by,  and  the 
welcome  hour  arrives  for  her  entrance  into  the  elysian  world, 
of  which  she  has  had  such  bright  dreams.  How  fairy  like  does 
everything  appear  to  her  enchanted  vision!  Each  new  scene 
is  more  charming  than  the  last.  But  after  a  while  she  finds 
that  beneath  this  goodly  exterior,  all  is  vanity:  the  flattery 
which  once  charmed  her  soul  now  grates  harshly  upon  her 
ear;  the  ballroom  has  lost  its  charms;  and  with  wasted  health 
and  embittered  heart  she  turns  away  with  the  conviction  that 
earthly  pleasures  cannot  satisfy  the  longings  of  the  soul! 

And  so  forth  and  so  on.  There  was  a  buzz  of 
gratification  from  time  to  time  during  the  reading, 
accompanied  by  whispered  ejaculations  of  "How 
sweet!"  "How  eloquent!"  "So  true!"  etc.,  and 
after  the  thing  had  closed  with  a  peculiarly  afflicting 
sermon  the  applause  was  enthusiastic. 

Then  arose  a  slim,  melancholy  girl,  whose  face 
'3  181 


MARK    TWAIN 

had  the  "interesting"  paleness  that  comes  of  pills 
and  indigestion,  and  read  a  "poem."  Two  stanzas 
of  it  will  do : 

A   MISSOURI   MAIDEN'S   FAREWELL   TO   ALABAMA 

Alabama,  good-by!    I  love  thee  well! 

But  yet  for  a  while  do  I  leave  thee  now  I 
Sad,  yes,  sad  thoughts  of  thee  my  heart  doth  swell, 

And  burning  recollections  throng  my  brow! 
For  I  have  wandered  through  thy  flowery  woods* 

Have  roamed  and  read  near  Tallapoosa's  stream; 
Have  listened  to  Tallassee's  warring  floods, 

And  wooed  on  Coosa's  side  Aurora's  beam. 

Yet  shame  I  not  to  bear  an  o'er-full  heart, 

Nor  blush  to  turn  behind  my  tearful  eyes; 
'Tis  from  no  stranger  land  I  now  must  part, 

'Tis  to  no  strangers  left  I  yield  these  sighs. 
Welcome  and  home  were  mine  within  this  State, 

Whose  vales  I  leave — whose  spires  fade  fast  from  me; 
And  cold  must  be  mine  eyes,  and  heart,  and  tete, 

When,  dear  Alabama!  they  turn  cold  on  thee! 

There  were  very  few  there  who  knew  what  "t£te" 
meant,  but  the  poem  was  very  satisfactory,  never 
theless. 

Next  appeared  a  dark-complexioned,  black-eyed, 
black-haired  young  lady,  who  paused  an  impressive 
moment,  assumed  a  tragic  expression,  and  began  to 
read  in  a  measured,  solemn  tone. 

A  VISION 

Dark  and  tempestuous  was  night.  Around  the  thnone  on  high 
not  a  single  star  quivered;  but  the  deep  intonations  of  the  heavy 
thunder  constantly  vibrated  upon  the  ear;  whilst  the  terrific 
lightning  reveled  in  angry  mood  through  the  cloudy  chambers 
of  heaven,  seeming  to  scorn  the  power  exerted  over  its  terror 
by  the  illustrious  Franklin!  Even  the  boisterous  winds  unan- 

182 


ADVENTURE.S    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

imously  came  forth  from  their  mystic  homes,  and  blustered 
about  as  if  to  enhance  by  their  aid  the  wildness  of  the  scene. 
At  such  a  time,  so  dark,  so  dreary,  for  human  sympathy  my 
very  spirit  sighed;  but  instead  thereof, 

"My  dearest  friend,  my  counselor,  my  comforter  and  guide — 
My  joy  in  grief,  my  second  bliss  in  joy,"  came  to  my  side. 

She  moved  like  one  of  those  bright  beings  pictured  in  the  sunny 
walks  of  fancy's  Eden  by  the  romantic  and  young,  a  queen  of 
beauty  unadorned  save  by  her  own  transcendent  loveliness.  So 
soft  was  her  step,  it  failed  to  make  even  a  sound,  and  but  for 
the  magical  thrill  imparted  by  her  genial  touch,  as  other  un 
obtrusive  beauties,  she  would  have  glided  away  unperceived— 
unsought.  A  strange  sadness  rested  upon  her  features,  like  icy 
tears  upon  the  robe  of  December,  as  she  pointed  to  the  con 
tending  elements  without,  and  bade  me  contemplate  the  two 
beings  presented. 

This  nightmare  occupied  some  ten  pages  of  manu 
script  and  wound  up  with  a  sermon  so  destructive  of 
all  hope  to  non-Presbyterians  that  it  took  the  first 
prize.  This  composition  was  considered  to  be  the 
very  finest  effort  of  the  evening.  The  mayor  of  the 
village,  in  delivering  the  prize  to  the  author  of  it, 
made  a  warm  speech  in  which  he  said  that  it  was 
by  far  the  most  *  *  eloquent "  thing  he  had  ever  listened 
to,  and  that  Daniel  Webster  himself  might  well  be 
proud  of  it. 

It  may  be  remarked,  in  passing,  that  the  number 
of  compositions  in  which  the  word  ''beauteous" 
was  over-fondled,  and  human  experience  referred  to 
as  "life's  page,"  was  up  to  the  usual  average. 

Now  the  master,  mellow  almost  to  the  verge  of 
geniality,  put  his  chair  aside,  turned  his  back  to  the 
audience,  and  began  to  draw  a  map  of  America  on 
the  blackboard,  to  exercise  the  geography  class 

183 


MARK    TWAIN 

upon.  But  he  made  a  sad  business  of  it  with  his 
unsteady  hand,  and  a  smothered  titter  rippled  over 
the  house.  He  knew  what  the  matter  was  and  set 
himself  to  right  it.  He  sponged  out  lines  and  re 
made  them;  but  he  only  distorted  them  more  than 
ever,  and  the  tittering  was  more  pronounced.  He 
threw  his  entire  attention  upon  his  work,  now,  as  if 
determined  not  to  be  put  down  by  the  mirth.  He 
felt  that  all  eyes  were  fastened  upon  him;  he  im 
agined  he  was  succeeding,  and  yet  the  tittering 
continued;  it  even  manifestly  increased.  And  well 
it  might.  There  was  a  garret  above,  pierced  with  a 
scuttle  over  his  head ;  and  down  through  this  scuttle 
came  a  cat,  suspended  around  the  haunches  by  a 
string;  she  had  a  rag  tied  about  her  head  and  jaws 
to  keep  her  from  mewing;  as  she  slowly  descended 
she  curved  upward  and  clawed  at  the  string,  she 
swung  downward  and  clawed  at  the  intangible  air. 
The  tittering  rose  higher  and  higher — the  cat  was 
within  six  inches  of  the  absorbed  teacher's  head — 
down,  down,  a  little  lower,  and  she  grabbed  his  wig 
with  her  desperate  claws,  clung  to  it,  and  was 
snatched  up  into  the  garret  in  an  instant  with  her 
trophy  still  in  her  possession!  And  how  the  light 
did  blaze  abroad  from  the  master's  bald  pate — for 
the  sign-painter's  boy  had  gilded  it! 

That  broke  up  the  meeting.  The  boys  were 
avenged.  Vacation  had  come. 

NOTE. — The  pretended  "compositions"  quoted  in  this  chapter 
are  taken  without  alteration  from  a  volume  entitled  "Prose  and 
Poetry,  by  a  Western  Lady" — but  they  are  exactly  and  precisely 
after  the  school-girl  pattern,  and  hence  are  much  happier  than  any 
mere  imitations  could  be. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

TOM  joined  the  new  order  of  Cadets  of  Temper 
ance,  being  attracted  by  the  showy  character 
of  their  "regalia."  He  promised  to  abstain  from 
smoking,  chewing,  and  profanity  as  long  as  he  re 
mained  a  member.  Now  he  found  out  a  new  thing 
— namely,  that  to  promise  not  to  do  a  thing  is  the 
surest  way  in  the  world  to  make  a  body  want  to  go 
and  do  that  very  thing.  Tom  soon  found  himself 
tormented  with  a  desire  to  drink  and  swear;  the 
desire  grew  to  be  so  intense  that  nothing  but  the 
hope  of  a  chance  to  display  himself  in  his  red  sash 
kept  him  from  withdrawing  from  the  order.  Fourth 
of  July  was  coming;  but  he  soon  gave  that  up — 
gave  it  up  before  he  had  worn  his  shackles  over 
forty-eight  hours — and  fixed  his  hopes  upon  old 
Judge  Frazer,  justice  of  the  peace,  who  was  ap 
parently  on  his  deathbed  and  would  have  a  big 
public  funeral,  since  he  was  so  high  an  official. 
During  three  days  Tom  was  deeply  concerned  about 
the  Judge's  condition  and  hungry  for  news  of  it. 
Sometimes  his  hopes  ran  high — so  high  that  he 
would  venture  to  get  out  his  regalia  and  practise 
before  the  looking-glass.  But  the  Judge  had  a  most 
discouraging  way  of  fluctuating.  At  last  he  was 
pronounced  upon  the  mend — and  then  convalescent. 

185 


MARK    TWAIN 

Tom  was  disgusted;  and  felt  a  sense  of  injury,  too. 
He  handed  in  his  resignation  at  once — and  that 
night  the  Judge  suffered  a  relapse  and  died.  Tom 
i  resolved  that  he  would  never  trust  a  man  like  that 
again. 

The  funeral  was  a  fine  thing.  The  Cadets  paraded 
in  a  style  calculated  to  kill  the  late  member  with 
envy.  Tom  was  a  free  boy  again,  however — there 
was  something  in  that.  He  could  drink  and  swear, 
now — but  found  to  his  surprise  that  he  did  not 
want  to.  The  simple  fact  that  he  could  took  the 
desire  away,  and  the  charm  of  it. 

Tom  presently  wondered  to  find  that  his  coveted 
vacation  was  beginning  to  hang  a  little  heavily  on  his 
hands. 

He  attempted  a  diary — but  nothing  happened 
during  three  days,  and  so  he  abandoned  it. 

The  first  of  all  the  negro  minstrel  shows  came  to 
town,  and  made  a  sensation.  Tom  and  Joe  Harper 
got  up  a  band  of  performers  and  were  happy  for 
two  days. 

Even  the  Glorious  Fourth  was  in  some  sense  a 
failure,  for  it  rained  hard,  there  was  no  procession 
in  consequence,  and  the  greatest  man  in  the  world 
(as  Tom  supposed),  Mr.  Benton,  an  actual  United 
States  Senator,  proved  an  overwhelming  disap 
pointment — for  he  was  not  twenty-five  feet  high, 
nor  even  anywhere  in  the  neighborhood  of  it. 

A  circus  came.  The  boys  played  circus  for  three 
days  afterward  in  tents  made  of  rag  carpeting — ad 
mission,  three  pins  for  boys,  two  for  girls — and 
then  circusing  was  abandoned. 

186 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

A  phrenologist  and  a  mesmerizer  came — and 
went  again  and  left  the  village  duller  and  drearier 
than  ever. 

There  were  some  boys-and-girls'  parties,  but  they 
were  so  few  and  so  delightful  that  they  only  made 
the  aching  voids  between  ache  the  harder. 

Becky  Thatcher  was  gone  to  her  Constantinople 
home  to  stay  with  her  parents  during  vacation — so 
there  was  no  bright  side  to  life  anywhere. 

The  dreadful  secret  of  the  murder  was  a  chronic 
misery.  It  was  a  very  cancer  for  permanency  and  pain. 

Then  came  the  measles. 

During  two  long  weeks  Tom  lay  a  prisoner,  dead 
to  the  world  and  its  happenings.  He  was  very  ill, 
he  was  interested  in  nothing.  When  he  got  upon 
his  feet  at  last  and  moved  feebly  down-town,  a 
melancholy  change  had  come  over  everything  and 
every  creature.  There  had  been  a  "revival,"  and 
everybody  had  "got  religion,"  not  only  the  adults, 
but  even  the  boys  and  girls.  Tom  went  about, 
hoping  against  hope  for  the  sight  of  one  blessed 
sinful  face,  but  disappointment  crossed  him  every 
where.  He  found  Joe  Harper  studying  a  Testament, 
and  turned  sadly  away  from  the  depressing  spec 
tacle.  He  sought  Ben  Rogers,  and  found  him  visit 
ing  the  poor  with  a  basket  of  tracts.  He  hunted  up 
Jim  Hollis,  who  called  his  attention  to  the  precious 
blessing  of  his  late  measles  as  a  warning.  Every 
boy  he  encountered  added  another  ton  to  his  de 
pression;  and  when,  in  desperation,  he  flew  for  ref 
uge  at  last  to  the  bosom  of  Huckleberry  Finn  and 
was  received  with  a  Scriptural  quotation,  his  heart 

187 


MARK    TWAIN 

broke  and  he  crept  home  and  to  bed  realizing  that 
he  alone  of  all  the  town  was  lost,  forever  and  forever. 

And  that  night  there  came  on  a  terrific  storm, 
with  driving  rain,  awful  claps  of  thunder  and  blind 
ing  sheets  of  lighting.  He  covered  his  head  with 
the  bedclothes  and  waited  in  a  horror  of  suspense 
for  his  doom;  for  he  had  not  the  shadow  of  a  doubt 
that  all  this  hubbub  was  about  him.  He  believed  he 
had  taxed  the  forbearance  of  the  powers  above  to 
the  extremity  of  endurance  and  that  this  was  the 
result.  It  might  have  seemed  to  him  a  waste  of 
pomp  and  ammunition  to  kill  a  bug  with  a  battery 
of  artillery,  but  there  seemed  nothing  incongruous 
about  the  getting  up  such  an  expensive  thunder 
storm  as  this  to  knock  the  turf  from  under  an  insect 
like  himself. 

By  and  by  the  tempest  spent  itself  and  died  with 
out  accomplishing  its  object.  The  boy's  first  im 
pulse  was  to  be  grateful,  and  reform.  His  second 
was  to  wait — for  there  might  not  be  any  more  storms. 

The  next  day  the  doctors  were  back;  Tom  had 
relapsed.  The  three  weeks  he  spent  on  his  back 
this  time  seemed  an  entire  age.  When  he  got  abroad 
at  last  he  was  hardly  grateful  that  he  had  been 
spared,  remembering  how  lonely  was  his  estate,  how 
companionless  and  forlorn  he  was.  He  drifted  list 
lessly  down  the  street  and  found  Jim  Hollis  acting  as 
judge  in  a  juvenile  court  that  was  trying  a  cat  for 
murder,  in  the  presence  of  her  victim,  a  bird.  He 
found  Joe  Harper  and  Huck  Finn  up  an  alley  eating 
a  stolen  melon.  Poor  lads!  they — like  Tom — had 
suffered  a  relapse, 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

A!*  last  the  sleepy  atmosphere  was  stirred — and 
vigorously:  the  murder  trial  came  on  in  the 
court.  It  became  the  absorbing  topic  of  village  talk 
immediately.  Tom  could  not  get  away  from  it. 
Every  reference  to  the  murder  sent  a  shudder  to  his 
heart,  for  his  troubled  conscience  and  fears  almost 
persuaded  him  that  these  remarks  were  put  forth  in 
his  hearing  as  " feelers";  he  did  not  see  how  he 
could  be  suspected  of  knowing  anything  about  the 
murder,  but  still  he  could  not  be  comfortable  in  the 
midst  of  this  gossip.  It  kept  him  in  a  cold  shiver 
all  the  time.  He  took  Huck  to  a  lonely  place  to 
have  a  talk  with  him.  It  would  be  some  relief  to 
unseal  his  tongue  for  a  little  while;  to  divide  his 
burden  of  distress  with  another  sufferer.  Moreover, 
he  wanted  to  assure  himself  that  Huck  had  remained 
discreet. 

"Huck,  have  you  ever  told  anybody  about — 
that?" 

"'Bout  what?" 

"You  know  what." 

"Oh— 'course  I  haven't." 

"  Never  a  word?" 

"Never  a  solitary  word,  so  help  me.  What 
tnakes  you  ask?" 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Well,  I  was  afeard." 

"Why,  Tom  Sawyer,  we  wouldn't  be  alive  two 
days  if  that  got  found  out.  You  know  that." 

Tom  felt  more  comfortable.     After  a  pause: 

"Huck,  they  couldn't  anybody  get  you  to  tell, 
could  they?" 

"Get  me  to  tell?  Why,  if  I  wanted  that  half- 
breed  devil  to  drownd  me  they  could  get  me  to 
tell.  They  ain't  no  different  way." 

"Well,  that's  all  right,  then.  I  reckon  we're  safe 
as  long  as  we  keep  mum.  But  let's  swear  again, 
anyway.  It's  more  surer." 

"I'm  agreed." 

So  they  swore  again  with  dread  solemnities. 

"What  is  the  talk  around,  Huck?  I've  heard  a 
power  of  it." 

"Talk?  Well,  it's  just  Muff  Potter,  Muff  Potter, 
Muff  Potter  all  the  time.  It  keeps  me  in  a  sweat, 
constant,  so's  I  want  to  hide  som'ers." 

"That's  just  the  same  way  they  go  on  round  me. 
I  reckon  he's  a  goner.  Don't  you  feel  sorry  for 
him,  sometimes?" 

"Most  always — most  always.  He  ain't  no  ac 
count;  but  then  he  hain't  ever  done  anything  to 
hurt  anybody.  Just  fishes  a  little,  to  get  money  to 
get  drunk  on — and  loafs  around  considerable;  but 
lord,  we  all  do  that — leastways  most  of  us — preachers 
and  such  like.  But  he's  kind  of  good — he  give  me 
half  a  fish,  once,  when  there  warn't  enough  for  two; 
and  lots  of  times  he's  kind  of  stood  by  me  when  I 
was  out  of  luck." 

"Well,  he's  mended  kites  for  me,  Huck,  and 
190 


ADVENTURES    OP    TOM    SAWYER 

knitted  hooks  on  to  my  line.  I  wish  we  could  get 
him  out  of  there." 

"My!  we  couldn't  get  him  out,  Tom.  And 
besides,  'twouldn't  do  any  good;  they'd  ketch  him 
again." 

"Yes — so  they  would.  But  I  hate  to  hear  'em 
abuse  him  so  like  the  dickens  when  he  never  done 
—that." 

"I  do  too,  Tom.  Lord,  I  hear  'em  say  he's  the 
bloodiest-looking  villain  in  this  country,  and  they 
wonder  he  wasn't  ever  hung  before." 

"Yes,  they  talk  like  that,  all  the  time.  I've 
heard  'em  say  that  if  he  was  to  get  free  they'd 
lynch  him." 

"And  they'd  do  it,  too." 

The  boys  had  a  long  talk,  but  it  brought  them 
little  comfort.  As  the  twilight  drew  on,  they  found 
themselves  hanging  about  the  neighborhood  of  the 
little  isolated  jail,  perhaps  with  an  undefined  hope 
that  something  would  happen  that  might  clear  away 
their  difficulties.  But  nothing  happened;  there 
seemed  to  be  no  angels  or  fairies  interested  in  this 
luckless  captive. 

The  boys  did  as  they  had  often  done  before — 
went  to  the  cell  grating  and  gave  Potter  some  tobacco 
and  matches.  He  was  on  the  ground  floor  and 
there  were  no  guards. 

His  gratitude  for  their  gifts  had  always  smote 
their  consciences  before — it  cut  deeper  than  ever, 
this  time.  They  felt  cowardly  and  treacherous  to 
the  last  degree  when  Potter  said: 

"You've  been  mighty  good  to  me,  boys — better 'n 

191 


MARK    TWAIN 

anybody  else  in  this  town.  And  I  don't  forget  it, 
I  don't.  Often  I  says  to  myself,  says  I,  *I  used  to 
mend  all  the  boys'  kites  and  things,  and  show  'em 
where  the  good  fishin'  -  places  was,  and  befriend 
'em  what  I  could,  and  now  they've  all  forgot  old 
Muff  when  he's  in  trouble;  but  Tom  don't,  and 
Huck  don't — they  don't  forget  him,'  says  I,  'and  I 
don't  forget  them.'  Well,  boys,  I  done  an  awful 
thing — drunk  and  crazy  at  the  time — that's  the  only 
way  I  account  for  it — and  now  I  got  to  swing  for 
it,  and  it's  right.  Right,  and  best,  too,  I  reckon 
— hope  so,  anyway.  Well,  we  won't  talk  about 
that.  I  don't  want  to  make  you  feel  bad;  you've 
befriended  me.  But  what  I  want  to  say,  is,  don't 
you  ever  get  drunk — then  you  won't  ever  get  here. 
Stand  a  litter  furder  west — so — that's  it;  it's  a 
prime  comfort  to  see  faces  that's  friendly  when  a 
body's  in  such  a  muck  of  trouble,  and  there  don't 
none  come  here  but  yourn.  Good  friendly  faces — 
good  friendly  faces.  Git  up  on  one  another's  backs 
and  let  me  touch  'em.  That's  it.  Shake  hands — 
yourn  '11  come  through  the  bars,  but  mine's  too  big. 
Little  hands,  and  weak — but  they've  helped  Muff 
Potter  a  power,  and  they'd  help  him  more  if  they 
could." 

Tom  went  home  miserable,  and  his  dreams  that 
night  were  full  of  horrors.  The  next  day  and  the 
day  after,  he  hung  about  the  courtroom,  drawn  by 
an  almost  irresistible  impulse  to  go  in,  but  forcing 
himself  to  stay  out.  Huck  was  having  the  same 
experience.  They  studiously  avoided  each  other. 
Each  wandered  away,  from  time  to  time,  but  the 

192 


ADVENTURES    OP    TOM    SAWYER 

same  dismal  fascination  always  brought  them  back 
presently.  Tom  kept  his  ears  open  when  idlers 
sauntered  out  of  the  courtroom,  but  invariably 
heard  distressing  news — the  toils  were  closing  more 
and  more  relentlessly  around  poor  Potter.  At  the 
end  of  the  second  day  the  village  talk  was  to  the 
effect  that  Injun  Joe's  evidence  stood  firm  and  un 
shaken,  and  that  there  was  not  the  slightest  question 
as  to  what  the  jury's  verdict  would  be. 

Tom  was  out  late  that  night,  and  came  to  bed 
through  the  window.  He  was  in  a  tremendous  state 
of  excitement.  It  was  hours  before  he  got  to  sleep. 
All  the  village  flocked  to  the  courthouse  the  next 
morning,  for  this  was  to  be  the  great  day.  Both 
sexes  were  about  equally  represented  in  the  packed 
audience.  After  a  long  wait  the  jury  filed  in  and 
took  their  places;  shortly  afterward,  Potter,  pale 
and  haggard,  timid  and  hopeless,  was  brought  in, 
with  chains  upon  him,  and  seated  where  all  the 
curious  eyes  could  stare  at  him;  no  less  conspicuous 
was  Injun  Joe,  stolid  as  ever.  There  was  another 
pause,  and  then  the  judge  arrived  and  the  sheriff 
proclaimed  the  opening  of  the  court.  The  usual 
whisperings  among  the  lawyers  and  gathering  to 
gether  of  papers  followed.  These  details  and  accom 
panying  delays  worked  up  an  atmosphere  of  prepa 
ration  that  was  as  impressive  as  it  was  fascinating. 

Now  a  witness  was  called  who  testified  that  he 
found  Muff  Potter  washing  in  the  brook,  at  an  early 
hour  of  the  morning  that  the  murder  was  discovered, 
and  that  he  immediately  sneaked  away.  After  some 
further  questioning,  counsel  for  the  prosecution  said: 

193 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Take  the  witness. " 

The  prisoner  raised  his  eyes  for  a  moment,  but 
dropped  them  again  when  his  own  counsel  said: 

"I  have  no  questions  to  ask  him." 

The  next  witness  proved  the  finding  of  the  knife 
near  the  corpse.  Counsel  for  the  prosecution  said: 

"Take  the  witness." 

"I  have  no  questions  to  ask  him,"  Potter's  lawyer 
replied. 

A  third  witness  swore  he  had  often  seen  the  knife 
in  Potter's  possession. 

"Take  the  witness." 

Counsel  for  Potter  declined  to  question  him.  The 
faces  of  the  audience  began  to  betray  annoyance. 
Did  this  attorney  mean  to  throw  away  his  client's 
Hfe  without  an  effort? 

Several  witnesses  deposed  concerning  Potter's 
guilty  behavior  when  brought  to  the  scene  of  the 
murder.  They  were  allowed  to  leave  the  stand 
without  being  cross-questioned. 

Every  detail  of  the  damaging  circumstances  that 
occurred  in  the  graveyard  upon  that  morning  which 
all  present  remembered  so  well  was  brought  out  by 
credible  witnesses,  but  none  of  them  were  cross- 
examined  by  Potter's  lawyer.  The  perplexity  and 
dissatisfaction  of  the  house  expressed  itself  in  mur 
murs  and  provoked  a  reproof  from  the  bench. 
Counsel  for  the  prosecution  now  said: 

"By  the  oaths  of  citizens  whose  simple  word  is 
above  suspicion,  we  have  fastened  this  awful  crime, 
beyond  all  possibility  of  question,  upon  the  unhappy 
prisoner  at  the  bar.  We  rest  our  case  here." 

194 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

A  groan  escaped  from  poor  Potter,  and  he  put  his 
face  in  his  hands  and  rocked  his  body  softly  to  and 
fro,  while  a  painful  silence  reigned  in  the  court 
room.  Many  men  were  moved,  and  many  women's 
compassion  testified  itself  in  tears.  Counsel  for  the 
defense  rose  and  said: 

"Your  honor,  in  our  remarks  at  the  opening  of 
this  trial,  we  foreshadowed  our  purpose  to  prove 
that  our  client  did  this  fearful  deed  while  under  the 
influence  of  a  blind  and  irresponsible  delirium  pro 
duced  by  drink.  We  have  changed  our  mind.  We 
shall  not  offer  that  plea."  [Then  to  the  clerk:] 
"Call  Thomas  Sawyer!" 

A  puzzled  amazement  awoke  in  every  face  in  the 
house,  not  even  excepting  Potter's.  Every  eye  fas 
tened  itself  with  wondering  interest  upon  Tom  as  he 
rose  and  took  his  place  upon  the  stand.  The  boy 
looked  wild  enough,  for  he  was  badly  scared.  The 
oath  was  administered. 

"Thomas  Sawyer,  where  were  you  on  the  seven 
teenth  of  June,  about  the  hour  of  midnight?" 

Tom  glanced  at  Injun  Joe's  iron  face  and  his 
tongue  failed  him.  The  audience  listened  breath 
less,  but  the  words  refused  to  come.  After  a  few 
moments,  however,  the  boy  got  a  little  of  his  strength 
back,  and  managed  to  put  enough  of  it  into  his  voice 
to  make  part  of  the  house  hear: 

"In  the  graveyard!" 

"A  little  bit  louder,  please.  Don't  be  afraid. 
You  were — " 

"In  the  graveyard." 

A  contemptuous  smile  flitted  across  Injun  Joe's  face. 

195 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Were  you  anywhere  near  Horse  Williams's 
grave?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Speak  up — just  a  trifle  louder.  How  near  were 
you?" 

"Near  as  I  am  to  you." 

"Were  you  hidden,  or  not?" 

"I  was  hid." 

"Where?" 

"Behind  the  elms  that's  on  the  edge  of  the 
grave." 

Injun  Joe  gave  a  barely  perceptible  start. 

"Any  one  with  you?" 

"Yes,  sir.     I  went  there  with — " 

"Wait — wait  a  moment.  Never  mind  mention 
ing  your  companion's  name.  We  will  produce  him 
at  the  proper  time.  Did  you  carry  anything  there 
with  you." 

Tom  hesitated  and  looked  confused. 

"Speak  out,  my  boy — don't  be  diffident.  The 
truth  is  always  respectable.  What  did  you  take 
there?" 

"Only  a— a— dead  cat." 

There  was  a  ripple  of  mirth,  which  the  court 
checked. 

"We  will  produce  the  skeleton  of  that  cat.  Now, 
my  boy,  tell  us  everything  that  occurred — tell  it  in 
your  own  way — don't  skip  anything,  and  don't  be 
afraid." 

Tom  began — hesitatingly  at  first,  but  as  he 
warmed  to  his  subject  his  words  flowed  more  and 
more  easily;  in  a  little  while  every  sound  ceased 

196 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

but  his  own  voice;  every  eye  fixed  itself  upon  him; 
with  parted  lips  and  bated  breath  the  audience  hung 
upon  his  words,  taking  no  note  of  time,  rapt  in  the 
ghastly  fascinations  of  the  tale.  The  strain  upon 
pent  emotion  reached  its  climax  when  the  boy  said: 

" — and  as  the  doctor  fetched  the  board  around 
and  Muff  Potter  fell,  Injun  Joe  jumped  with  the 
knife  and — " 

Crash!  Quick  as  lightning  the  half-breed  sprang 
for  a  window,  tore  his  way  through  all  opposers, 
and  was  gone! 

u 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

TOM  was  a  glittering  hero  once  more — the  pet  of 
the  old,  the  envy  of  the  young.  His  name 
even  went  into  immortal  print,  for  the  village  paper 
magnified  him.  There  were  some  that  believed  he 
would  be  President,  yet,  if  he  escaped  hanging. 

As  usual,  the  fickle,  unreasoning  world  took  Muff 
Potter  to  its  bosom  and  fondled  him  as  lavishly  as 
it  had  abused  him  before.  But  that  sort  of  conduct 
is  to  the  world's  credit;  therefore  it  is  not  well  to 
find  fault  with  it. 

Tom's  days  were  days  of  splendor  and  exultation 
to  him,  but  his  nights  were  seasons  of  horror.  Injun 
Joe  infested  all  his  dreams,  and  always  with  doom 
in  his  eye.  Hardly  any  temptation  could  persuade 
the  boy  to  stir  abroad  after  nightfall.  Poor  Huck 
was  in  the  same  state  of  wretchedness  and  terror,  for 
Tom  had  told  the  whole  story  to  the  lawyer  the  night 
before  the  great  day  of  the  trial,  and  Huck  was  sore 
afraid  that  his  share  in  the  business  might  leak  out, 
yet,  notwithstanding  Injun  Joe's  flight  had  saved 
him  the  suffering  of  testifying  in  court.  The  poor 
fellow  had  got  the  attorney  to  promise  secrecy,  but 
what  of  that?  Since  Tom's  harassed  conscience 
had  managed  to  drive  him  to  the  lawyer's  house  by 
night  and  wring  a  dread  tale  from  lips  that  had  been 

198 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

sealed  with  the  dismalest  and  most  formidable  of 
oaths,  Hack's  confidence  in  the  human  race  was 
well-nigh  obliterated. 

Daily  Muff  Potter's  gratitude  made  Tom  glad  he 
had  spoken;  but  nightly  he  wished  he  had  sealed 
up  his  tongue. 

Half  the  time  Tom  was  afraid  Injun  Joe  would 
never  be  captured;  the  other  half  he  was  afraid  he 
would  be.  He  felt  sure  he  never  could  draw  a  safe 
breath  again  until  that  man  was  dead  and  he  had 
seen  the  corpse. 

Rewards  had  been  offered,  the  country  had  been 
scoured,  but  no  Injun  Joe  was  found.  One  of  those 
omniscient  and  awe-inspiring  marvels,  a  detective, 
came  up  from  St.  Louis,  moused  around,  shook  his 
head,  looked  wise,  and  made  that  sort  of  astounding 
success  which  members  of  that  craft  usually  achieve. 
That  is  to  say,  he  " found  a  clew."  But  you  can't 
hang  a  "clew"  for  murder,  and  so  after  that  de 
tective  had  got  through  and  gone  home,  Tom  felt 
just  as  insecure  as  he  was  before. 

The  slow  days  drifted  on,  and  each  left  behind 
it  a  slightly  lightened  weight  of  apprehension. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THERE  comes  a  time  in  every  rightly  constructed 
boy's  life  when  he  has  a  raging  desire  to  go 
somewhere  and  dig  for  hidden  treasure.  This  desire 
suddenly  came  upon  Tom  one  day.  He  sallied  out 
to  find  Joe  Harper,  but  failed  of  success.  Next  he 
sought  Ben  Rogers;  he  had  gone  fishing.  Presently 
he  stumbled  upon  Huck  Finn  the  Red-Handed. 
Huck  would  answer.  Tom  took  him  to  a  private 
place  and  opened  the  matter  to  him  confidentially. 
Huck  was  willing.  Huck  was  always  willing  to  take 
a  hand  in  any  enterprise  that  offered  entertainment 
and  required  no  capital,  for  he  had  a  troublesome 
superabundance  of  that  sort  of  time  which  is  not 
money.  'Where'll  we  dig?"  said  Huck. 

"Oh,  most  anywhere." 

"Why,  is  it  hid  all  around?" 

"No  indeed  it  ain't.  It's  hid  in  mighty  particu 
lar  places,  Huck — sometimes  on  islands,  sometimes 
in  rotten  chests  under  the  end  of  a  limb  of  an  old 
dead  tree,  just  where  the  shadow  falls  at  midnight; 
but  mostly  under  the  floor  in  ha'nted  houses." 

"Who  hides  it?" 

"Why,  robbers,  of  course — who'd  you  reckon? 
Sunday-school  sup'rintendents?" 

"I  don't  know.  If  'twas  mine  I  wouldn't  hide 
it;  I'd  spend  it  and  have  a  good  time." 

200 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"So  would  I.  But  robbers  don't  do  that  way. 
They  always  hide  it  and  leave  it  there." 

"Don't  they  come  after  it  any  more?" 

"No,  they  think  they  will,  but  they  generally 
forget  the  marks,  or  else  they  die.  Anyway,  it  lays 
there  a  long  time  and  gets  rusty;  and  by  and  by 
somebody  finds  an  old  yellow  paper  that  tells  how 
to  find  the  marks — a  paper  that's  got  to  be  ciphered 
over  about  a  week  because  it's  mostly  signs  and 
hy'roglyphics." 

"Hyro— which?" 

"Hy'roglyphics — pictures  and  things,  you  know, 
that  don't  seem  to  mean  anything." 

"Have  you  got  one  of  them  papers,  Tom?" 

"No." 

"Well  then,  how  you  going  to  find  the  marks?" 

"I  don't  want  any  marks.  They  always  bury  it 
under  a  ha'nted  house  or  on  an  island,  or  under  a 
dead  tree  that's  got  one  limb  sticking  out.  Well, 
we've  tried  Jackson's  Island  a  little,  and  we  can  try 
it  again  some  time;  and  there's  the  old  ha'nted 
house  up  the  Still-House  branch,  and  there's  lots  of 
dead-limb  trees — dead  loads  of  'em." 

"Is  it  under  all  of  them?" 

"How  you  talk!    No!" 

"Then  how  you  going  to  know  which  one  to  go 
for?" 

"Go  for  all  of 'em!" 

"Why,  Tom,  it  '11  take  all  summer." 

"Well,  what  of  that?  Suppose  you  find  a  brass 
pot  with  a  hundred  dollars  in  it,  all  rusty  and  gay, 
or  a  rotten  chest  full  of  di'monds.  How's  that?" 

2OI 


MARK    TWAIN 

Huck's  eyes  glowed. 

" That's  bully.  Plenty  bully  enough  for  me. 
Just  you  gimme  the  hundred  dollars  and  I  don't 
want  no  di'monds." 

"All  right.  But  I  bet  you  I  ain't  going  to  throw 
off  on  di'monds.  Some  of  'em's  worth  twenty  dol 
lars  apiece — there  ain't  any,  hardly,  but's  worth 
six  bits  or  a  dollar." 

"No!    Is  that  so?'1 

"Cert'nly — anybody  '11  tell  you  so.  Hain't  you 
ever  seen  one,  Huck?" 

"Not  as  I  remember." 

"Oh,  kings  have  slathers  of  them." 

"Well,  I  don't  know  no  kings,  Tom." 

"I  reckon  you  don't.  But  if  you  was  to  go  to 
Europe  you'd  see  a  raft  of  'em  hopping  around." 

"Do  they  hop?" 

"Hop? — your  granny!    No!" 

"Well,  what  did  you  say  they  did,  for?" 

"Shucks,  I  only  meant  you'd  see  'em — not  hop 
ping,  of  course — what  do  they  want  to  hop  for? — 
but  I  mean  you'd  just  see  'em — scattered  around, 
you  know,  in  a  kind  of  a  general  way.  Like  that 
old  humpbacked  Richard." 

"Richard?    What's  his  other  name?" 

"He  didn't  have  any  other  name.  Kings  don't 
have  any  but  a  given  name."  , 

"No?" 

"But  they  don't." 

"Well,  if  they  like  it,  Tom,  all  right;  but  I  don't 
want  to  be  a  king  and  have  only  just  a  given  name, 
like  a  nigger.  But  say — where  you  going  to  dig  first  ?" 

202 


ADVENTURES    OF     TOM     SAWYER 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  S'pose  we  tackle  that  old 
dead-limb  tree  on  the  hill  t'other  side  of  Still-House 
branch?" 

"I'm  agreed." 

So  they  got  a  crippled  pick  and  a  shovel,  and  set 
out  on  their  three-mile  tramp.  They  arrived  hot 
and  panting,  and  threw  themselves  down  in  the 
shade  of  a  neighboring  elm  to  rest  and  have  a 
smoke. 

"I  like  this,"  said  Tom. 

"So  do  I." 

"Say,  Huck,  if  we  find  a  treasure  here,  what  you 
going  to  do  with  your  share?" 

"Well,  I'll  have  pie  and  a  glass  of  soda  every 
day,  and  I'll  go  to  every  circus  that  comes  along.  I 
bet  I'll  have  a  gay  time." 

"Well,  ain't  you  going  to  save  any  of  it?" 

"Save  it?    What  for?" 

"Why,  so  as  to  have  something  to. live  on,  by 
and  by." 

"Oh,  that  ain't  any  use.  Pap  would  come  back 
to  thish  yer  town  some  day  and  get  his  claws  on  it 
if  I  didn't  hurry  up,  and  I  tell  you  he'd  clean  it  out 
pretty  quick.  What  you  going  to  do  with  yourn, 
Tom?" 

"I'm  going  to  buy  a  new  drum,  and  a  sure- 
'nough  sword,  and  a  red  necktie  and  a  bull  pup,  and 
get  married." 

"Married!" 

"That's  it." 

"Tom,  you — why,  yon  ain't  in  your  right  mind." 

"Wait— you'll  see." 

203 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Well,  that's  the  foolishest  thing  you  could  do. 
Look  at  pap  and  my  mother.  Fight!  Why,  they 
used  to  fight,  all  the  time.  I  remember,  mighty 
well." 

"That  ain't  anything.  The  girl  I'm  going  to 
marry  won't  fight." 

"Tom,  I  reckon  they're  all  alike.  They'll  all 
comb  a  body.  Now  you  better  think  'bout  this 
awhile.  I  tell  you  you  better.  What's  the  name  of 
the  gal?" 

"It  ain't  a  gal  at  all—it's  a  girl." 

"It's  all  the  same,  I  reckon;  some  says  gal,  some 
says  girl  —  both's  right,  like  enough.  Anyway, 
what's  her  name,  Tom?" 

"I'll  tell  you  some  time — not  now." 

"All  right — that  '11  do.  Only  if  you  get  married 
I'll  be  more  lonesomer  than  ever." 

"No  you  won't.  You'll  come  and  live  with  me. 
Now  stir  out  of  this  and  we'll  go  to  digging." 

They  worked  and  sweated  for  half  an  hour.  No 
result.  They  toiled  another  half -hour.  Still  no 
result.  Huck  said: 

"Do  they  always  bury  it  as  deep  as  this?" 

"Sometimes  —  not  always.  Not  generally.  I 
reckon  we  haven't  got  the  right  place." 

So  they  chose  a  new  spot  and  began  again.  The 
labor  dragged  a  little,  but  still  they  made  progress. 
They  pegged  away  in  silence  for  some  time.  Finally 
Huck  leaned  on  his  shovel,  swabbed  the  beaded 
drops  from  his  brow  with  his  sleeve,  and  said : 

"Where  you  going  to  dig  next,  after  we  get  this 
one?" 

204 


ADVENTt.RES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"I  reckon  maybe  we'll  tackle  the  old  tree  that's 
over  yonder  on  Cardiff  Hill  back  of  the  widow's.'* 

"I  reckon  that  '11  be  a  good  one.  .But  won't  the 
widow  take  it  away  from  us,  Tom?  It's  on  her 
land." 

"She  take  it  away!  Maybe  she'd  like  to  try  it 
once.  '  Whoever  finds  one  of  these  hid  treasures,  it 
belongs  to  him.  It  don't  make  any  difference  whose 
land  it's  on." 

That  was  satisfactory.  The  work  went  on.  By 
and  by  Huck  said: 

"Blame  it,  we  must  be  in  the  wrong  place  again. 
What  do  you  think?" 

"It  is  mighty  curious,  Huck.  I  don't  understand 
it.  Sometimes  witches  interfere.  I  reckon  maybe 
that's  what's  the  trouble  now." 

"Shucks,  witches  ain't  got  no  power  in  the  day 
time." 

"Well,  that's  so.  I  didn't  think  of  that.  Oh,  I 
know  what  the  matter  is!  What  a  blamed  lot  of 
fools  we  are !  You  got  to  find  out  where  the  shadow 
of  the  limb  falls  at  midnight,  and  that's  where  you 
dig!" 

"Then  consound  it,  we've  fooled  away  all  this 
work  for  nothing.  Now  hang  it  all,  we  got  to  come 
back  in  the  night.  It's  an  awful  long  way.  Can 
you  get  out?" 

"I  bet  I  will.  We've  got  to  do  it  to-night,  too, 
because  if  somebody  sees  these  holes  they'll  know 
in  a  minute  what's  here  and  they'll  go  for  it." 

"Well,  I'll  come  around  and  maow  to-night." 

"All  right."  Let's  hide  the  tools  in  the  bushes." 
205 


MARK    TWAIN 

The  boys  were  there  that  night,  about  the  ap 
pointed  time.  They  sat  in  the  shadow  waiting.  It 
was  a  lonely  place,  and  an  hour  made  solemn  by 
old  traditions.  Spirits  whispered  in  the  rustling 
leaves,  ghosts  lurked  in  the  murky  nooks,  the  deep 
baying  of  a  hound  floated  up  out  of  the  distance, 
an  owl  answered  with  his  sepulchral  note.  The 
boys  were  subdued  by  these  solemnities,  and  talked 
little.  By  and  by  they  judged  that  twelve  had 
come;  they  marked  where  the  shadow  fell,  and 
began  to  dig.  Their  hopes  commenced  to  rise. 
Their  interest  grew  stronger,  and  their  industry 
kept  pace  with  it.  The  hole  deepened  and  still 
deepened,  but  every  time  their  hearts  jumped  to 
hear  the  pick  strike  upon  something,  they  only 
suffered  a  new  disappointment.  It  was  only  a  stone 
or  a  chunk.  At  last  Tom  said: 

"It  ain't  any  use,  Huck,  we're  wrong  again." 

"Well,  but  we  can't  be  wrong.  We  spotted  the 
shadder  to  a  dot." 

"I  know  it,  but  then  there's  another  thing." 

"What's  that?" 

"Why,  we  only  guessed  at  the  time.  Like  enough 
it  was  too  late  or  too  early." 

Huck  dropped  his  shovel. 

"That's  it,"  said  he.  "That's  the  very  trouble. 
We  got  to  give  this  one  up.  We  can't  ever  tell  the 
right  time,  and  besides  this  kind  of  thing's  too 
awful,  here  this  time  of  night  with  witches  and 
ghosts  a-fluttering  around  so.  I  feel  as  if  some 
thing's  behind  me  all  the  time;  and  I'm  afeard  to 
turn  around,  becuz  maybe  there's  others  in  front 

206 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

a- waiting  for  a  chance.     I  been  creeping  all  over, 
ever  since  I  got  here." 

"Well,  I've  been  pretty  much  so,  too,  Huck. 
They  most  always  put  in  a  dead  man  when  they 
bury  a  treasure  under  a  tree,  to  look  out  for  it." 

"Lordy!" 

"Yes,  they  do.     I've  always  heard  that." 

"Tom,  I  don't  like  to  fool  around  much  where 
there's  dead  people.  A  body's  bound  to  get  into 
trouble  with  'em,  sure." 

"I  don't  like  to  stir  'em  up,  either.  S'pose  this  one 
here  was  to  stick  his  skull  out  and  say  something!" 

"Don't,  Tom!    It's  awful." 

"Well,  it  just  is.  Huck,  I  don't  feel  comfortable 
a  bit." 

"Say,  Tom,  let's  give  this  place  up,  and  try 
somewheres  else." 

"All  right,  I  reckon  we  better." 

" What  '11  it  be?" 

Tom  considered  awhile,  and  then  said: 

' ' The  ha'nted  house.     That's  it !" 

"Blame  it,  I  don't  like  ha'nted  houses,  Tom. 
Why,  they're  a  dern  sight  worse'n  dead  people. 
Dead  people  might  talk,  maybe,  but  they  don't 
come  sliding  around  in  a  shroud,  when  you  ain't 
noticing,  and  peep  over  your  shoulder  all  of  a  sud 
den  and  grit  their  teeth,  the  way  a  ghost  does.  I 
couldn't  stand  such  a  thing  as  that,  Tom — nobody 
could." 

"Yes,  but,  Huck,  ghosts  don't  travel  around  only 
at  night.  They  won't  hender  us  from  digging  there 
in  the  daytime." 

207 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Well,  that's  so.  But  you  know  mighty  well 
people  don't  go  about  that  ha'nted  house  in  the 
day  nor  the  night." 

"Well,  that's  mostly  because  they  don't  like  to 
go  where  a  man's  been  murdered,  anyway — but 
nothing's  ever  been  seen  around  that  house  except 
in  the  night — just  some  blue  lights  slipping  by  the 
windows — no  regular  ghosts." 

"Well,  where  you  see  one  of  them  blue  lights 
flickering  around,  Tom,  you  can  bet  there's  a  ghost 
mighty  close  behind  it.  It  stands  to  reason.  Becuz 
you  know  that  they  don't  anybody  but  ghosts  use 
'em." 

"Yes,  that's  so.  But  anyway  they  don't  come 
around  in  the  daytime,  so  what's  the  use  of  our 
being  afeard?" 

"Well,  all  right.  We'll  tackle  the  ha'nted  house 
if  you  say  so — but  I  reckon  it's  taking  chances." 

They  had  started  down  the  hill  by  this  time. 
There  in  the  middle  of  the  moonlit  valley  below 
them  stood  the  "ha'nted"  house,  utterly  isolated,  its 
fences  gone  long  ago,  rank  weeds  smothering  the 
very  doorsteps,  the  chimney  crumbled  to  min,  the 
window-sashes  vacant,  a  corner  of  the  roof  caved 
in.  The  boys  gazed  awhile,  half  expecting  to  see 
a  blue  light  flit  past  a  window;  then  talking  in  a 
low  tone,  as  befitted  the  time  and  the  circumstances, 
they  struck  far  off  to  the  right,  to  give  the  haunted 
house  a  wide  berth,  and  took  their  way  homeward 
through  the  woods  that  adorned  the  rearward  side 
of  Cardiff  Hill. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

BOUT  noon  the  next  day  the  boys  arrived  at  the 
dead  tree ;  they  had  come  for  their  tools.  Tom 
was  impatient  to  go  to  the  haunted  house;  Huck 
was  measurably  so,  also — but  suddenly  said: 

"Lookyhere,  Tom,  do  you  know  what  day  it  is?" 

Tom  mentally  ran  over  the  days  of  the  week,  and 
then  quickly  lifted  his  eyes  with  a  startled  look  in 
them — 

"My!     I  never  once  thought  of  it,  Huck!'* 

"Well,  I  didn't  neither,  but  all  at  once  it  popped 
onto  me  that  it  was  Friday." 

"Blame  it,  a  body  can't  be  too  careful,  Huck. 
We  might  'a'  got  into  an  awful  scrape,  tackling  such 
a  thing  on  a  Friday." 

"Might!  Better  say  we  would!  There's  some 
lucky  days,  maybe,  but  Friday  ain't." 

"Any  fool  knows  that.  I  don't  reckon  you  was 
the  first  that  found  it  out,  Huck." 

"Well,  I  never  said  I  was,  did  I?  And  Friday 
ain't  all,  neither.  I  had  a  rotten  bad  dream  last 
night — dreampt  about  rats." 

"No!     Sure  sign  of  trouble.     Did  they  fight?" 

"No." 

"Well,  that's  good,  Huck.  When  they  don't 
fight  it's  only  a  sign  that  there's  trouble  around, 

209 


MARK    TWAIN 

you  know.  All  we  got  to  do  is  to  look  mighty 
sharp  and  keep  out  of  it.  We'll  drop  this  thing  for 
to-day,  and  play.  Do  you  know  Robin  Hood,  Huck  ?" 

' '  No.     Who's  Robin  Hood  ?' ' 

"Why,  he  was  one  of  the  greatest  men  that  was 
ever  in  England — and  the  best.  He  was  a  robber.'1 

"Cracky,  I  wisht  I  was.     Who  did  he  rob?" 

"Only  sheriffs  and  bishops  and  rich  people  and 
kings,  and  such  like.  But  he  never  bothered  the 
poor.  He  loved  'em.  He  always  divided  up  with 
'em  perfectly  square." 

"Well,  he  must  'a'  been  a  brick." 

"I  bet  you  he  was,  Huck.  Oh,  he  was  the  noblest 
man  that  ever  was.  They  ain't  any  such  men 
now,  I  can  tell  you.  He  could  lick  any  man  in 
England,  with  one  hand  tied  behind  him;  and  he 
could  take  his  yew  bow  and  plug  a  ten-cent  piece 
every  time,  a  mile  and  a  half." 

" What's  a  yew  bow?" 

"I  don't  know.  It's  some  kind  of  a  bow,  of 
course.  And  if  he  hit  that  dime  only  on  the  edge 
he  would  set  down  and  cry — and  curse.  But  we'll 
play  Robin  Hood — it's  nobby  fun.  I'll  learn  you." 

"I'm  agreed." 

So  they  played  Robin  Hood  all  the  afternoon, 
now  and  then  casting  a  yearning  eye  down  upon  the 
haunted  house  and  passing  a  remark  about  the 
morrow's  prospects  and  possibilities  there.  As  the 
sun  began  to  sink  into  the  west  they  took  their 
way  homeward  athwart  the  long  shadows  of  the 
trees  and  soon  were  buried  from  sight  in  the  forests 
of  Cardiff  Hill. 

2IO 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

On  Saturday,  shortly  after  noon,  the  boys  were 
at  the  dead  tree  again.  They  had  a  smoke  and  a 
chat  in  the  shade,  and  then  dug  a  little  in  their  last 
hole,  not  with  great  hope,  but  merely  because  Tom 
said  there  were  so  many  cases  where  people  had 
given  up  a  treasure  after  getting  down  within  six 
inches  of  it,  and  then  somebody  else  had  come  along 
and  turned  it  up  with  a  single  thrust  of  a  shovel. 
The  thing  failed  this  time,  however,  so  the  boys 
shouldered  their  tools  and  went  away  feeling  that 
they  had  not  trifled  with  fortune,  but  had  fulfilled 
all  the  requirements  that  belong  to  the  business  of 
treasure-hunting. 

When  they  reached  the  haunted  house  there  was 
something  so  weird  and  grisly  about  the  dead  si 
lence  that  reigned  there  under  the  baking  sun,  and 
something  so  depressing  about  the  loneliness  and 
desolation  of  the  place,  that  they  were  afraid,  for 
a  moment,  to  venture  in.  Then  they  crept  to  the 
door  and  took  a  trembling  peep.  They  saw  a 
weed-grown,  floorless  room,  unplastered,  an  ancient 
fireplace,  vacant  windows,  a  ruinous  staircase;  and 
here,  there,  and  everywhere  hung  ragged  and  aban 
doned  cobwebs.  They  presently  entered,  softly, 
with  quickened  pulses,  talking  in  whispers,  ears 
alert  to  catch  the  slightest  sound,  and  muscles  tense 
and  ready  for  instant  retreat. 

In  a  little  while  familiarity  modified  their  fears 
and  they  gave  the  place  a  critical  and  interested 
examination,  rather  admiring  their  own  boldness, 
and  wondering  at  it,  too.  Next  they  wanted  to  look 
up-stairs.  This  was  something  like  cutting  off  re- 

211 


MARK    TWAIN 

treat,  but  they  got  to  daring  each  other,  and  of 
course  there  could  be  but  one  result — they  threw 
their  tools  into  a  corner  and  made  the  ascent.  Up 
there  were  the  same  signs  of  decay.  In  one  corner 
they  found  a  closet  that  promised  mystery,  but  the 
promise  was  a  fraud — there  was  nothing  in  it. 
Their  courage  was  up  now  and  well  in  hand.  They 
were  about  to  go  down  and  begin  work  when — 

'"Sh!"  said  Tom. 

"What  is  it?"  whispered  Huck,  blanching  with 
fright. 

"'Sh!  .  .  ..  There!  .  .  .  Hear  it?" 

"Yes!  ...  Oh,  my!     Let's  run!"' 

"Keep  still!  Don't  you  budge!  They're  coming 
right  toward  the  door." 

The  boys  stretched  themselves  upon  the  floor  with 
their  eyes  to  knot-holes  in  the  planking,  and  lay 
waiting,  in  a  misery  of  fear. 

"They've  stopped.  .  .  .  No — coming.  .  .  .  Here 
they  are.  Don't  whisper  another  word,  Huck.  My 
goodness,  I  wish  I  was  out  of  this!" 

Two  men  entered.  Each  boy  said  to  himself: 
"There's  the  old  deaf  and  dumb  Spaniard  that's 
been  about  town  once  or  twice  lately — never  saw 
t'other  man  before." 

"T'other"  was  a  ragged,  unkempt  creature,  with 
nothing  very  pleasant  in  his  face.  The  Spaniard 
was  wrapped  in  a  serape;  he  had  bushy  white 
whiskers;  long  white  hair  flowed  from  under  his 
sombrero,  and  he  wore  green  goggles.  When  they 
came  in,  "t'other"  was  talking  in  a  low  voice; 
they  sat  down  on  the  ground,  facing  the  door,  with 

212 


ADVENTURES    OF     TOM     SAWYER 

their  backs  to  the  wall,  and  the  speaker  continued 
his  remarks.  His  manner  became  less  guarded  and 
his  words  more  distinct  as  he  proceeded: 

"No,"  said  he,  "I've  thought  it  all  over,  and  I 
don't  like  it.  It's  dangerous." 

' '  Dangerous ! ' '  grunted  the ' '  deaf  and  dumb ' '  Span 
iard — to  the  vast  surprise  of  the  boys.  "Milksop!" 

This  voice  made  the  boys  gasp  and  quake.  It 
was  Injun  Joe's!  There  was  silence  for  some  time. 
Then  Joe  said: 

"What's  any  more  dangerous  than  that  job  up 
yonder — but  nothing's  come  of  it." 

"That's  different.  Away  up  the  river  so,  and 
not  another  house  about.  'Twon't  ever  be  known 
that  we  tried,  anyway,  long  as  we  didn't  succeed." 

"Well,  what's  more  dangerous  than  coming  here 
in  the  daytime! — anybody  would  suspicion  us  that 


saw  us." 


"I  know  that.  But  there  warn't  any  other  place 
as  handy  after  that  fool  of  a  job.  I  want  to  quit 
this  shanty.  I  wanted  to  yesterday,  only  it  warn't 
any  use  trying  to  stir  out  of  here  with  those  infernal 
boys  playing  over  there  on  the  hill  right  in  full  view." 

"Those  infernal  boys"  quaked  again  under  the 
•inspiration  of  this  remark,  and  thought  how  lucky  it 
was  that  they  had  remembered  it  was  Friday  and 
concluded  to  wait  a  day.  They  wished  in  their 
hearts  they  had  waited  a  year. 

The  two  men  got  out  some  food  and  made  a 
luncheon.  After  a  long  and  thoughtful  silence, 
Injun  Joe  said: 

11  Look  here,  lad — you  go  back  up  the  river  where 
'5  213 


MARK     TWAIN 

you  belong.  Wait  there  till  you  hear  from  me. 
I'll  take  the  chances  on  dropping  into  this  town 
just  once  more,  for  a  look.  We'll  do  that  'danger 
ous'  job  after  I've  spied  around  a  little  and  think 
things  look  well  for  it.  Then  for  Texas !  We'll  leg 
it  together!" 

This  was  satisfactory.  Both  men  presently  fell  to 
yawning,  and  Injun  Joe  said: 

"I'm  dead  for  sleep!    It's  your  turn  to  watch.'* 

He  curled  down  in  the  weeds  and  soon  began  to 
snore.  His  comrade  stirred  him  once  or  twice  and 
he  became  quiet.  Presently  the  watcher  began  to 
nod;  his  head  drooped  lower  and  lower,  both  men 
began  to  snore  now. 

The  boys  drew  a  long,  grateful  breath.  Tom 
whispered: 

"Now's  our  chance — come!" 

Huck  said: 

"I  can't — I'd  die  if  they  was  to  wake." 

Tom  urged — Huck  held  back.  At  last  Tom  rose 
slowly  and  softly,  and  started  alone.  But  the  first 
step  he  made  wrung  such  a  hideous  creak  from  the 
crazy  floor  that  he  sank  down  almost  dead  with 
fright.  He  never  made  a  second  attempt.  The 
boys  lay  there  counting  the  dragging  moments  till 
it  seemed  to  them  that  time  must  be  done  and  eter 
nity  growing  gray;  and  then  they  were  grateful  to 
note  that  at  last  the  sun  was  setting. 

Now  one  snore  ceased.  Injun  Joe  sat  up,  stared 
around — smiled  grimly  upon  his  comrade,  whose 
head  was  drooping  upon  his  knees — stirred  him  up 
with  his  foot  and  said: 

214 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

"Here!  You're  a  watchman,  ain't  you!  All 
right,  though — nothing's  happened." 

"My!   have  I  been  asleep?'* 

"Oh,  partly,  partly.  Nearly  time  for  us  to  be 
moving,  pard.  What  '11  we  do  with  what  little  swag 
we've  got  left?" 

"I  don't  know — leave  it  here  as  we've  always 
done,  I  reckon.  No  use  to  take  it  away  till  we  start 
south.  Six  hundred  and  fifty  in  silver's  something 
to  carry." 

"Well — all  right — it  won't  matter  to  come  here 


once  more." 


"No — but  I'd  say  come  in  the  night  as  we  used 
to  do— it's  better." 

"Yes:  but  look  here;  it  may  be  a  good  while 
before  I  get  the  right  chance  at  that  job;  accidents 
might  happen;  'tain't  in  such  a  very  good  place; 
we'll  just  regularly  bury  it — and  bury  it  deep." 

"Good  idea,"  said  the  comrade,  who  walked 
across  the  room,  knelt  down,  raised  one  of  the  rear 
ward  hearthstones  and  took  out  a  bag  that  jingled 
pleasantly.  He  subtracted  from  it  twenty  or  thirty 
dollars  for  himself  and  as  much  for  Injun  Joe  and 
passed  the  bag  to  the  latter,  who  was  on  his  knees 
in  the  corner,  now,  digging  with  his  bowie-knife. 

The  boys  forgot  all  their  fears,  all  their  miseries  in 
an  instant.  With  gloating  eyes  they  watched  every 
movement.  Luck ! — the  splendor  of  it  was  beyond 
all  imagination!  Six  hundred  dollars  was  money 
enough  to  make  half  a  dozen  boys  rich !  Here  was 
treasure-hunting  under  the  happiest  auspices — there 
would  not  be  any  bothersome  uncertainty  as  to 

215 


MARK    TWAIN 

where  to  dig.  They  nudged  each  other  every  mo 
ment — eloquent  nudges  and  easily  understood,  for 
they  simply  meant — "Oh,  but  ain't  you  glad  now 
we're  here!" 

Joe's  knife  struck  upon  something. 

"Hello!"  said  he. 

"What  is  it?"  said  his  comrade. 

"Half -rotten  plank — no,  it's  a  box,  I  believe. 
Here — bear  a  hand  and  we'll  see  what  it's  here  for. 
Never  mind,  I've  broke  a  hole." 

He  reached  his  hand  in  and  drew  it  out — 

"Man,  it's  money!" 

The  two  men  examined  the  handful  of  coins. 
They  were  gold.  The  boys  above  were  as  excited 
as  themselves,  and  as  delighted. 

Joe's  comrade  said: 

"We'll  make  quick  work  of  this.  There's  an  old 
rusty  pick  over  amongst  the  weeds  in  the  corner 
the  other  side  of  the  fireplace  —  I  saw  it  a  minute 
ago." 

He  ran  and  brought  the  boys'  pick  and  shovel. 
Injun  Joe  took  the  pick,  looked  it  over  critically, 
shook  his  head,  muttered  something  to  himself,  and 
then  began  to  use  it.  The  box  was  soon  unearthed, 
It  was  not  very  large;  it  was  iron-bound  and  had 
been  very  strong  before  the  slow  years  had  injured 
it.  The  men  contemplated  the  treasure  awhile  in 
blissful  silence. 

"Pard,  there's  thousands  of  dollars  here,"  said 
Injun  Joe. 

"'Twas  always  said  that  Murrel's  gang  used  to  be 
around  here  one  summer,"  the  stranger  observed. 

216 


ADVENTURES    OP    TOM    SAWYER 

"I  know  it,"  said  Injun  Joe;  "and  this  looks  like 
it,  I  should  say." 

11  Now  you  won't  need  to  do  that  job." 

The  half-breed  frowned.     Said  he: 

"You  don't  know  me.  Least  you  don't  know 
all  about  that  thing.  'Tain't  robbery  altogether — 
it's  revenge!"  and  a  wicked  light  flamed  in  his  eyes. 
"I'll  need  your  help  in  it.  When  it's  finished — 
then  Texas.  Go  home  to  your  Nance  and  your 
kids,  and  stand  by  till  you  hear  from  me." 

"Well — if  you  say  so.  What  '11  we  do  with  this — 
bury  it  again?" 

"Yes.  [Ravishing  delight  overhead.]  No!  by 
the  great  Sachem,  no!  [Profound  distress  over 
head.]  I'd  nearly  forgot.  That  pick  had  fresh 
earth  on  it!  [The  boys  were  sick  with  terror  in  a 
moment.]  What  business  has  a  pick  and  a  shovel 
here?  What  business  with  fresh  earth  on  them? 
Who  brought  them  here — and  where  are  they  gone? 
Have  you  heard  anybody? — seen  anybody?  What! 
bury  it  again  and  leave  them  to  come  and  see  the 
ground  disturbed?  Not  exactly — not  exactly.  We'll 
take  it  to  my  den." 

"Why,  of  course!  Might  have  thought  of  that 
before.  You  mean  Number  One?" 

"No — Number  Two — under  the  cross.  The  other 
place  is  bad — too  common." 

"All  right.     It's  nearly  dark  enough  to  start." 

Injun  Joe  got  up  and  went  about  from  window  to 
window  cautiously  peeping  out.  Presently  he  said: 

"Who  could  have  brought  those  tools  here?  Do 
you  reckon  they  can  be  up-stairs?" 

217 


MARK    TWAIN 

The  boys'  breath  forsook  them.  Injun  Joe  put 
his  hand  on  his  knife,  halted  a  moment,  undecided, 
and  then  turned  toward  the  stairway.  The  boys 
thought  of  the  closet,  but  their  strength  was  gone. 
The  steps  came  creaking  up  the  stairs — the  intoler 
able  distress  of  the  situation  woke  the  stricken  reso 
lution  of  the  lads — they  were  about  to  spring  for 
the  closet,  when  there  was  a  crash  of  rotten  timbers 
and  Injun  Joe  landed  on  the  ground  amid  the  debris 
of  the  ruined  stairway.  He  gathered  himself  up 
cursing,  and  his  comrade  said: 

"Now  what's  the  use  of  all  that?  If  it's  any 
body,  and  they're  up  there,  let  them  stay  there— 
who  cares?  If  they  want  to  jump  down,  now,  and 
get  into  trouble,  who  objects?  It  will  be  dark  in 
fifteen  minutes — and  then  let  them  follow  us  if  they 
want  to.  I'm  willing.  In  my  opinion,  whoever 
hove  those  things  in  here  caught  a  sight  of  us  and 
took  us  for  ghosts  or  devils  or  something.  I'll  bet 
they're  running  yet." 

Joe  grumbled  awhile;  then  he  agreed  with  his 
friend  that  what  daylight  was  left  ought  to  be 
economized  in  getting  things  ready  for  leaving. 
Shortly  afterward  they  slipped  out  of  the  house  in 
the  deepening  twilight,  and  moved  toward  the 
river  with  their  precious  box. 

Tom  and  Huck  rose  up,  weak  but  vastly  relieved, 
and  stared  after  them  through  the  chinks  between 
the  logs  of  the  house.  Follow?  Not  they.  They 
were  content  to  reach  ground  again  without  broken 
necks,  and  take  the  townward  track  over  the  hill. 
They  did  not  talk  much.  They  were  too  much 

218 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

absorbed  in  hating  themselves — hating  the  ill  luck 
that  made  them  take  the  spade  and  the  pick  there. 
But  for  that,  Injun  Joe  never  would  have  suspected. 
He  would  have  hidden  the  silver  with  the  gold  to 
wait  there  till  his  "revenge"  was  satisfied,  and  then 
he  would  have  had  the  misfortune  to  find  that 
money  turn  up  missing.  Bitter,  bitter  luck  that  the 
tools  were  ever  brought  there! 

They  resolved  to  keep  a  lookout  for  that  Spaniard 
when  he  should  come  to  town  spying  out  for  chances 
to  do  his  revengeful  job,  and  follow  him  to  "Number 
Two,"  wherever  that  might  be.  Then  a  ghastly 
thought  occurred  to  Tom: 

"Revenge?    What  if  he  means  us,  Huck!" 

"Oh,  don't!"  said  Huck,  nearly  fainting. 

They  talked  it  all  over,  and  as  they  entered  town 
they  agreed  to  believe  that  he  might  possibly  mean 
somebody  else — at  least  that  he  might  at  least  mean 
nobody  but  Tom,  since  only  Tom  had  testified. 

Very,  very  small  comfort  it  was  to  Tom  to  be 
alone  in  danger!  Company  would  be  a  palpable 
improvement,  he  thought. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

THE  adventure  of  the  day  mightily  tormented 
Tom's  dreams  that  night.  Four  times  he  had 
his  hands  on  that  rich  treasure  and  four  times  it 
wasted  to  nothingness  in  his  fingers  as  sleep  forsook 
him  and  wakefulness  brought  back  the  hard  reality 
of  his  misfortune.  As  he  lay  in  the  early  morning 
recalling  the  incidents  of  his  great  adventure,  he 
noticed  that  they  seemed  curiously  subdued  and 
far  away — somewhat  as  if  they  had  happened  in 
another  world,  or  in  a  time  long  gone  by.  Then  it 
occurred  to  him  that  the  great  adventure  itself  must 
be  a  dream!  There  was  one  very  strong  argument 
in  favor  of  this  idea — namely,  that  the  quantity  of 
coin  he  had  seen  was  too  vast  to  be  real.  He  had 
never  seen  as  much  as  fifty  dollars  in  one  mass 
before,  and  he  was  like  all  boys  of  his  age  and 
station  in  life,  in  that  he  imagined  that  all  references 
to  "hundreds"  and  "thousands"  were  mere  fanci 
ful  forms  of  speech,  and  that  no  such  sums  really 
existed  in  the  world.  He  never  had  supposed  for  a 
moment  that  so  large  a  sum  as  a  hundred  dollars 
was  to  be  found  in  actual  money  in  any  one's  pos 
session.  If  his  notions  of  hidden  treasure  had  been 
analyzed,  they  would  have  been  found  to  consist  of 
a  handful  of  real  dimes  and  a  bushel  of  vague, 
splendid,  ungraspable  dollars. 

220 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

But  the  incidents  of  his  adventure  grew  sensibly 
sharper  and  clearer  under  the  attrition  of  thinking 
them  over,  and  so  he  presently  found  himself  lean 
ing  to  the  impression  that  the  thing  might  not  have 
been  a  dream,  after  all.  This  uncertainty  must  be 
swept  away.  He  would  snatch  a  hurried  breakfast 
and  go  and  find  Huck. 

Huck  was  sitting  on  the  gunwale  of  a  flatboat, 
listlessly  dangling  his  feet  in  the  water  and  looking 
very  melancholy.  Tom  concluded  to  let  Huck  lead 
up  to  the  subject.  If  he  did  not  do  it,  then  the  ad 
venture  would  be  proved  to  have  been  only  a  dream. 

"Hello,  Huck!" 

"Hello,  yourself." 

Silence  for  a  minute. 

"Tom,  if  we'd  'a*  left  the  blame  tools  at  the  dead 
tree,  we'd  'a'  got  the  money.  Oh,  ain't  it  awful!" 

"'Tain't  a  dream,  then,  'tain't  a  dream!  Some 
how  I  most  wish  it  was.  Dog'd  if  I  don't,  Huck." 

"What  ain't  a  dream?" 

"Oh,  that  thing  yesterday.  I  been  half  thinking 
it  was." 

"Dream!  If  them  stairs  hadn't  broke  down 
you'd  'a'  seen  how  much  dream  it  was!  I've  had 
dreams  enough  all  night — with  that  patch-eyed 
Spanish  devil  going  for  me  all  through  'em — rot 
him!" 

"No,  not  rot  him.   Find  him!  Track  the  money!" 

"Tom,  we'll  never  find  him.  A  feller  don't  have 
only  one  chance  for  such  a  pile — and  that  one's 
lost.  I'd  feel  mighty  shaky  if  I  was  to  see  him, 
anyway." 

221 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Well,  so'd  I;  but  I'd  like  to  see  him,  anyway — 
and  track  him  out — to  his  Number  Two." 

"Number  Two — yes,  that's  it.  I  ben  thinking 
'bout  that.  But  I  can't  make  nothing  out  of  it. 
What  do  you  reckon  it  is?" 

"I  dono.  It's  too  deep.  Say,  Huck — maybe  it's 
the  number  of  a  house!" 

''Goody!  ...  No,  Tom,  that  ain't  it.  If  it  is,  it 
ain't  in  this  one-horse  town.  They  ain't  no  num 
bers  here." 

"Well,  that's  so.  Lemme  think  a  minute.  Here 
— it's  the  number  of  a  room — in  a  tavern,  you 
know!" 

"Oh,  that's  the  trick!  They  ain't  only  two 
taverns.  We  can  find  out  quick." 

"You  stay  here,  Huck,  till  I  come." 

Tom  was  off  at  once.  He  did  not  care  to  have 
Huck's  company  in  public  places.  He  was  gone 
half  an  hour.  He  found  that  in  the  best  tavern, 
No.  2  had  long  been  occupied  by  a  young  lawyer, 
and  was  still  so  occupied.  In  the  less  ostentatious 
house  No.  2  was  a  mystery.  The  tavern-keeper's 
young  son  said  it  was  kept  locked  all  the  time,  and 
he  never  saw  anybody  go  into  it  or  come  out  of  it 
except  at  night;  he  did  not  know  any  particular 
reason  for  this  state  of  things;  had  had  some  little 
curiosity,  but  it  was  rather  feeble;  had  made  the 
most  of  the  mystery  by  entertaining  himself  with  the 
idea  that  that  room  was  "ha'nted";  had  noticed 
that  here  was  a  light  in  there  the  night  before. 

"That's  what  I've  found  out,  Huck.  I  reckon 
that's  the  very  No.  2  we're  after." 

222 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

"I  reckon  it  is,  Tom.  Now  what  you  going  to 
do?" 

"Lemme  think." 

Tom  thought  a  long  time.     Then  he  said: 

''I'll  tell  you.  The  back  door  of  that  No.  2  is 
the  door  that  comes  out  into  that  little  close  alley 
between  the  tavern  and  the  old  rattletrap  of  a  brick 
store.  Now  you  get  hold  of  all  the  doorkeys  you 
can  find,  and  I'll  nip  all  of  auntie's,  and  the  first 
dark  night  we'll  go  there  and  try  'em.  And  mind 
you,  keep  a  lookout  for  Injun  Joe,  because  he  said 
he  was  going  to  drop  into  town  and  spy  around 
once  more  for  a  chance  to  get  his  revenge.  If  you 
see  him,  you  just  follow  him;  and  if  he  don't  go  to 
that  No.  2,  that  ain't  the  place." 

"Lordy,  I  don't  want  to  f oiler  him  by  myself!" 

"Why,  it  '11  be  night,  sure.  He  mightn't  ever 
see  you — and  if  he  did,  maybe  he'd  never  think 
anything." 

"Well,  if  it's  pretty  dark  I  reckon  I'll  track  him. 
I  dono— I  dono.  I'll  try." 

"You  bet  I'll  follow  him,  if  it's  dark,  Huck. 
Why,  he  might  'a'  found  out  he  couldn't  get  his 
revenge,  and  be  going  right  after  that  money." 

"It's  so,  Tom,  it's  so.  I'll  f  oiler  him;  I  will,  by 
jingoes!" 

"Now  you're  talking!  Don't  you  ever  weaken, 
Huck,  and  I  won't," 


CHAPTER  XXVin 

THAT  night  Tom  and  Huck  were  ready  for  their 
adventure.  They  hung  about  the  neighbor 
hood  of  the  tavern  until  after  nine,  one  watching 
the  alley  at  a  distance  and  the  other  the  tavern  door. 
Nobody  entered  the  alley  or  left  it;  nobody  resem 
bling  the  Spaniard  entered  or  left  the  tavern  door. 
The  night  promised  to  be  a  fair  one;  so  Tom  went 
home  with  the  understanding  that  if  a  considerable 
degree  of  darkness  came  on,  Huck  was  to  come  and 
"maow,"  whereupon  he  would  slip  out  and  try  the 
keys.  But  the  night  remained  clear,  and  Huck 
closed  his  watch  and  retired  to  bed  in  an  empty 
sugar  hogshead  about  twelve. 

Tuesday  the  boys  had  the  same  ill  luck.  Also 
Wednesday.  But  Thursday  •  night  promised  better. 
Tom  slipped  out  in  good  season  with  his  aunt's  old 
tin  lantern,  and  a  large  towel  to  blindfold  it  with. 
He  hid  the  lantern  in  Huck's  sugar  hogshead  and 
the  watch  began.  An  hour  before  midnight  the 
tavern  closed  up  and  its  lights  (the  only  ones  there 
abouts)  were  put  out.  No  Spaniard  had  been  seen. 
Nobody  had  entered  or  left  the  alley.  Everything 
was  auspicious.  The  blackness  of  darkness  reigned, 
the  perfect  stillness  was  interrupted  only  by  oc 
casional  mutterings  of  distant  thunder. 

224 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

Tom  got  his  lantern,  lit  it  in  the  hogshead,  wrapped 
it  closely  in  the  towel,  and  the  two  adventurers 
crept  in  the  gloom  toward  the  tavern.  Huck  stood 
sentry  and  Tom  felt  his  way  into  the  alley.  Then 
there  was  a  season  of  waiting  anxiety  that  weighed 
upon  Huck's  spirits  like  a  mountain.  He  began 
to  wish  he  could  see  a  flash  from  the  lantern — 
it  would  frighten  him,  but  it  would  at  least  tell 
him  that  Tom  was  alive  yet.  It  seemed  hours  since 
Tom  had  disappeared.  Surely  he  must  have  fainted ; 
maybe  he  was  dead;  maybe  his  heart  had  burst 
under  terror  and  excitement.  In  his  uneasiness 
Huck  found  himself  drawing  closer  and  closer  to 
the  alley;  fearing  all  sorts  of  dreadful  things,  and 
momentarily  expecting  some  catastrophe  to  happen 
that  would  take  away  his  breath.  There  was  not 
much  to  take  away,  for  he  seemed  only  able  to 
inhale  it  by  thimblefuls,  and  his  heart  would  soon 
wear  itself  out,  the  way  it  was  beating.  Suddenly 
there  was  a  flash  of  light  and  Tom  came  tearing 
by  him: 

"Run!"  said  he;  "run  for  your  life!" 

He  needn't  have  repeated  it;  once  was  enough; 
Huck  was  making  thirty  or  forty  miles  an  hour 
before  the  repetition  was  uttered.  The  boys  never 
stopped  till  they  reached  the  shed  of  a  deserted 
slaughter-house  at  the  lower  end  of  the  village.  Just 
as  they  got  within  its  shelter  the  storm  burst  and 
the  rain  poured  down.  As  soon  as  Tom  got  his 
breath  he  said : 

"Huck,  it  was  awful!  I  tried  two  of  the  keys, 
just  as  soft  as  I  could;  but  they  seemed  to  make 

225 


MARK    TWAIN 

such  a  power  of  racket  that  I  couldn't  hardly  get 
my  breath  I  was  so  scared.  They  wouldn't  turn  in 
the  lock,  either.  Well,  without  noticing  what  I  was 
doing,  I  took  hold  of  the  knob,  and  open  comes  the 
door!  It  warn't  locked!  I  hopped  in,  and  shook 
off  the  towel,  and,  great  C&sar's  ghost!" 

"What— what  'd  you  see,  Tom?" 

"Huck,  I  most  stepped  onto  Injun  Joe's  hand!" 

"No!" 

"Yes!  He  wras  laying  there,  sound  asleep  on 
the  floor,  with  his  old  patch  on  his  eye  and  his  arms 
spread  out." 

"Lordy,  what  did  you  do?    Did  he  wake  up?" 

"No,  never  budged.     Drunk,  I  reckon.     I  just 
grabbed  that  towel  and  started!" 
/"I'd  never  'a'  thought  of  the  towel,  I* bet!" 
/    "Well,    I    would.     My    aunt    would    make    me 
mighty  sick  if  I  lost  it." 

"Say,  Tom,  did  you  see  that  box?" 

"Huck,  I  didn't  wait  to  look  around.  I  didn't 
see  the  box,  I  didn't  see  the  cross.  I  didn't  see 
anything  but  a  bottle  and  a  tin  cup  on  the  floor  by 
Injun  Joe;  yes,  and  I  saw  two  barrels  and  lots  more 
bottles  in  the  room.  Don't  you  see,  now,  what's 
the  matter  with  that  ha'nted  room?" 

"How?" 

"Why,  it's  ha'nted  with  whisky!  Maybe  all  the 
Temperance  Taverns  have  got  a  ha'nted  room,  hey, 
Huck?" 

4 '  Well,  I  reckon  maybe  that's  so.  Who'd  'a'  thought 
such  a  thing?  But  say,  Tom,  now's  a  mighty  good 
time  to  get  that  box,  if  Injun  Joe's  drunk." 

226 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"It  is  that!    You  try  it!" 

Huck  shuddered. 

"Well,  no— I  reckon  not.'* 

"And  I  reckon  not,  Huck.  Only  one  bottle 
alongside  of  Injun  Joe  ain't  enough.  If  there' d 
been  three,  he'd  be  drunk  enough  and  I'd  do  it." 

There  was  a  long  pause  for  reflection,  and  then 
Tom  said: 

"Lookyhere,  Huck,  le's  not  try  that  thing  any 
more  till  we  know  Injun  Joe's  not  in  there.  It's  too 
scary.  Now,  if  we  watch  every  night,  we'll  be  dead 
sure  to  see  him  go  out,  some  time  or  other,  and 
then  we'll  snatch  that  box  quicker 'n  lightning." 

"Well,  I'm  agreed.  I'll  watch  the  whole  night 
long,  andiff'll  do  it  every  night,  too,  if  you'll  do  the 
other'part  of  the  job." 

"All  right,  I  will.  All  you  got  to  do  is  to  trot  up 
Hooper  Street  a  block  and  maow — and  if  I'm  asleep, 
you  throw  some  gravel  at  the  window  and  that  '11 
fetch  me." 

"Agreed,  and  good  as  wheat!" 

"Now,  Huck,  the  storm's  over,  and  I'll  go  home. 
It  '11  begin  to  be  daylight  in  a  couple  of  hours.  You 
go  back  and  watch  that  long,  will  you?" 

"I  said  I  would,  Tom,  and  I  will.  I'll  ha'nt  that 
tavern  every  night  for  a  year!  I'll  sleep  all  day  and 
I'll  stand  watch  all  night." 

"That's  all  right.  Now,  where  you  going  to 
sleep?" 

"In  Ben  Rogers's  hayloft.  He  lets  me,  and  so 
does  his  pap's  nigger  man,  Uncle  Jake.  .1  tote 
water  for  Uncle  Jake  whenever  he  wants  me  to,  and 

227 


MARK     TWAIN 

any  time  I  ask  him  he  gives  me  a  little  something  to 
eat  if  he  can  spare  it.  That's  a  mighty  good  nigger, 
Tom.  He  likes  me,  becuz  I  don't  ever  act  as  if  I 
was  above  him.  Sometimes  I've  set  right  down  and 
eat  with  him.  But  you  needn't  tell  that.  A  body's 
got  to  do  things  when  he's  awful  hungry  he  wouldn't 
want  to  do  as  a  steady  thing." 

"Well,  if  I  don't  want  you  in  the  daytime,  I'll  let 
you  sleep.  I  won't  come  bothering  around.  Any 
time  you  see  something's  up,  in  the  night,  just  skip 
right  around  and  maow." 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

THE  first  thing  Tom  heard  on  Friday  morning 
was  a  glad  piece  of  news — Judge  Thatcher's 
family  had  come  back  to  town  the  night  before. 
Both  Injun  Joe  and  the  treasure  sank  into  secondary 
importance  for  a  moment,  and  Becky  took  the  chief 
place  in  the  boy's  interest.  He  saw  her,  and  they 
had  an  exhausting  good  time  playing  "hi-spy"  and 
"gully-keeper"  with  a  crowd  of  their  schoolmates. 
The  day  was  completed  and  crowned  in  a  peculiarly 
satisfactory  way:  Becky  teased  her  mother  to  ap 
point  the  next  day  for  the  long-promised  and  long- 
delayed  picnic,  and  she  consented.  The  child's 
delight  was  boundless;  and  Tom's  not  more  moder 
ate.  The  invitations  were  sent  out  before  sunset, 
and  straightway  the  young  folks  of  the  village  were 
thrown  into  a  fever  of  preparation  and  pleasurable 
anticipation.  Tom's  excitement  enabled  him  to 
keep  awake  until  a  pretty  late  hour,  and  he  had 
good  hopes  of  hearing  Huck's  "maow,"  and  of 
having  his  treasure  to  astonish  Becky  and  the  pic 
nickers  with,  next  day;  but  he  was  disappointed. 
No  signal  came  that  night. 

Morning  came,  eventually,  and  by  ten  or  eleven 
o'clock  a  giddy  and  rollicking  company  were  gath 
ered  at  Judge  Thatcher's,  and  everything  was  ready 

16  229 


MARK     TWAIN 

for  a  start.  It  was  not  the  custom  for  elderly  peo 
ple  to  mar  picnics  with  their  presence.  The  children 
were  considered  safe  enough  under  the  wings  of  a 
few  young  ladies  of  eighteen  and  a  few  young  gen 
tlemen  of  twenty-three  or  thereabouts.  The  old 
steam  -  ferryboat  was  chartered  for  the  occasion; 
presently  the  gay  throng  filed  up  the  main  street 
laden  with  provision-baskets.  Sid  was  sick  and  had 
to  miss  the  fun;  Mary  remained  at  home  to  enter 
tain  him.  The  last  thing  Mrs.  Thatcher  said  to 
Becky  was: 

"You'll  not  get  back  till  late.  Perhaps  you'd 
better  stay  all  night  with  some  of  the  girls  that  live 
near  the  ferry  landing,  child." 

4 'Then  I'll  stay  with  Susy  Harper,  mamma." 

"Very  well.  And  mind  and  behave  yourself  and 
don't  be  any  trouble." 

Presently,  as  they  tripped  along,  Tom  said  to 
Becky: 

"Say— I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do.  'Stead  of 
going  to  Joe  Harper's  we'll  climb  right  up  the  hill 
and  stop  at  the  Widow  Douglas's.  She'll  have  ice 
cream!  She  has  it  most  every  day — dead  loads  of 
it.  And  she'll  be  awful  glad  to  have  us." 

"Oh,  that  will  be  fun!" 

Then  Becky  reflected  a  moment  and  said: 

"But  what  will  mamma  say?" 

"How'll  she  ever  know?" 

The  girl  turned  the  idea  over  in  her  mind,  and 
said  reluctantly : 

"I  reckon  it's  wrong — but — " 

"But  shucks!  Your  mother  won't  know,  and  so 
230 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

what's  the  harm?  All  she  wants  is  that  you'll  be 
safe;  and  I  bet  you  she'd  'a*  said  go  there  if  she'd 
V  thought  of  it.  I  know  she  would!" 

The  Widow  Douglas's  splendid  hospitality  was  a 
tempting  bait.  It  and  Tom's  persuasions  presently 
carried  the  day.  So  it  was  decided  to  say  noth 
ing  to  anybody  about  the  night's  program.  Pres 
ently  it  occurred  to  Tom  that  maybe  Huck  might 
come  this  very  night  and  give  the  signal.  The 
thought  took  a  deal  of  the  spirit  out  of  his  anticipa 
tions.  '  Still  he  could  not  bear  to  give  up  the  fun  at 
Widow  Douglas's.  And  why  should  he  give  it  up,  he 
reasoned — the  signal  did  not  come  the  night  be 
fore,  so  why  should  it  be  any  more  likely  to  come 
to-night?  The  sure  fun  of  the  evening  outweighed 
the  uncertain  treasure;  and  boy  like,  he  determined 
to  yield  to  the  stronger  inclination  and  not  allow 
himself  to  think  of  the  box  of  money  another  time 
that  day. 

Three  miles  below  town  the  ferryboat  stopped  at 
the  mouth  of  a  woody  hollow  and  tied  up.  The 
crowd  swarmed  ashore  and  soon  the  forest  distances 
and  craggy  heights  echoed  far  and  near  with  shout 
ings  and  laughter.  All  the  different  ways  of  getting 
hot  and  tired  were  gone  through  with,  and  by  and 
by  the  rovers  straggled  back  to  camp  fortified  with 
responsible  appetites,  and  then  the  destruction  of 
the  good  things  began.  After  the  feast  there  was  a 
refreshing  season  of  rest  and  chat  in  the  shade  of 
spreading  oaks.  By  and  by  somebody  shouted: 

"Who's  ready  for  the  cave?" 

Everybody  was.     Bundles  of  candles  were 

231 


MARK    TWAIN 

cured,  and  straightway  there  was  a  general  scamper 
up  the  hill.  The  mouth  of  the  cave  was  up  the 
hillside — an  opening  shaped  like  a  letter  A.  Its 
massive  oaken  door  stood  unbarred.  Within  was  a 
small  chamber,  chilly  as  an  icehouse,  and  walled  by 
Nature  with  solid  limestone  that  was  dewy  with  a 
cold  sweat.  It  was  romantic  and  mysterious  to 
stand  here  in  the  deep  gloom  and  look  out  upon  the 
green  valley  shining  in  the  sun.  But  the  impressive- 
ness  of  the  situation  quickly  wore  off,  and  the  romp 
ing  began  again.  The  moment  a  candle  was  lighted 
there  was  a  general  rush  upon  the  owner  of  it;  a 
struggle  and  a  gallant  defense  followed,  but  the 
candle  was  soon  knocked  down  or  blown  out,  and 
then  there  was  a  glad  clamor  of  laughter  and  a  new 
chase.  But  all  things  have  an  end.  By  and  by  the 
procession  went  filing  down  the  steep  descent  of  the 
main  avenue,  the  flickering  rank  of  lights  dimly 
revealing  the  lofty  walls  of  rock  almost  to  their 
point  of  junction  sixty  feet  overhead.  This  main 
avenue  was  not  more  than  eight  or  ten  feet  wide. 
Every  few  steps  other  lofty  and  still  narrower 
crevices  branched  from  it  on  either  hand — for  Mc- 
Dougal's  cave  was  but  a  vast  labyrinth  of  crooked 
aisles  that  ran  into  each  other  and  out  again  and 
led  nowhere.  It  was  said  that  one  might  wander 
days  and  nights  together  through  its  intricate  tangle 
of  rifts  and  chasms,  and  never  find  the  end  of  the 
cave;  and  that  he  might  go  down  and  down,  and 
still  down,  into  the  earth,  and  it  was  just  the  same — 
labyrinth  underneath  labyrinth,  and  no  end  to  any 
of  them.  No  man  "knew"  the  cave.  That  was 

232 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

an  impossible  thing.  Most  of  the  young  men  knew 
a  portion  of  it,  and  it  was  not  customary  to  venture 
much  beyond  this  known  portion.  Tom  Sawyer 
knew  as  much  of  the  cave  as  any  one. 

The  procession  moved  along  the  main  avenue 
some  three-quarters  of  a  mile,  and  then  groups  and 
couples  began  to  slip  aside  into  branch  avenues,  fly 
along  the  dismal  corridors,  and  take  each  other  by 
surprise  at  points  where  the  corridors  joined  again. 
Parties  were  able  to  elude  each  other  for  the  space 
of  half  an  hour  without  going  beyond  the  " known" 
ground. 

By  and  by,  one  group  after  another  came  strag 
gling  back  to  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  panting,  hilari 
ous,  smeared  from  head  to  foot  with  tallow  drip 
pings,  daubed  with  clay,  and  entirely  delighted  with 
the  success  of  the  day.  Then  they  were  astonished 
to  find  that  they  had  been  taking  no  note  of  time 
and  that  night  was  about  at  hand.  The  clanging 
bell  had  been  calling  for  half  an  hour.  How 
ever,  this  sort  of  close  to  the  day's  adventures  was 
romantic  and  therefore  satisfactory.  When  the 
ferryboat  with  her  wild  freight  pushed  into  the 
stream,  nobody  cared  sixpence  for  the  wasted  time 
but  the  captain  of  the  craft. 

Huck  was  already  upon  his  watch  when  the  ferry 
boat's  lights  went  glinting  past  the  wharf.  He  heard 
no  noise  on  board,  for  the  young  people  were  as 
subdued  and  still  as  people  usually  are  who  are 
nearly  tired  to  death.  He  wondered  what  boat  it 
was,  and  why  she  did  not  stop  at  the  wharf — and 
then  he  dropped  her  out  of  his  mind  and  put  his 

233 


MARK    TWAIN 

attention  upon  his  business.  The  night  was  grow 
ing  cloudy  and  dark.  Ten  o'clock  came,  and  the 
noise  of  vehicles  ceased,  scattered  lights  began  to 
wink  out,  all  straggling  foot-passengers  disappeared, 
the  village  betook  itself  to  its  slumbers  and  left  the 
small  watcher  alone  with  the  silence  and  the  ghosts. 
Eleven  o'clock  came,  and  the  tavern  lights  were  put 
out;  darkness  everywhere,  now.  Huck  waited  what 
seemed  a  weary  long  time,  but  nothing  happened. 
His  faith  was  weakening.  Was  there  any  use? 
Was  there  really  any  use?  Why  not  give  it  up  and 
turn  in? 

A  noise  fell  upon  his  ear.  He  was  all  attention 
in  an  instant.  The  alley  door  closed  softly.  He 
sprang  to  the  corner  of  the  brick  store.  The  next 
moment  two  men  brushed  by  him,  and  one  seemed 
to  have  something  under  his  arm.  It  must  be  that 
box!  So  they  were  going  to  remove  the  treasure 
Why  call  Tom  now?  It  would  be  absurd— the 
men  would  get  away  with  the  box  and  never  be 
found  again.  No,  he  would  stick  to  their  wake  and 
follow  them;  he  would  trust  to  the  darkness  for 
security  from  discovery.  So  communing  with  him 
self,  Huck  stepped  out  and  glided  along  behind  the 
men,  catlike,  with  bare  feet,  allowing  them  to  keep 
just  far  enough  ahead  not  to  be  invisible. 

They  moved  up  the  river  street  three  blocks  then 
turned  to  the  left  up  a  cross-street.  They  went 
straight  ahead,  then,  until  they  came  to  the  path 
that  led  up  Cardiff  Hill;  this  they  took.  They 
passed  by  the  old  Welshman's  house,  half-way  up 
the  hill,  without  hesitating,  and  still  climbed  upward. 

234 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

Good,  thought  Huck;  they  will  bury  it  in  the  old 
quarry.  But  they  never  stopped  at  the  quarry. 
They  passed  on,  up  the  summit.  They  plunged 
into  the  narrow  path  between  the  tall  sumach  bushes, 
and  were  at  once  hidden  in  the  gloom.  Huck 
closed  up  and  shortened  his  distance,  now,  for  they 
would  never  be  able  to  see  him.  He  trotted  along 
awhile;  then  slackened  his  pace,  fearing  he  was 
gaining  too  fast;  moved  on  a  piece,  then  stopped 
altogether;  listened;  no  sound;  none,  save  that  he 
seemed  to  hear  the  beating  of  his  own  heart.  The 
hooting  of  an  owl  came  from  over  the  hill — ominous 
sound!  But  no  footsteps.  Heavens,  was  every 
thing  lost!  He  was  about  to  spring  with  winged 
feet,  when  a  man  cleared  his  throat  not  four  feet 
from  him!  Huck's  heart  shot  into  his  throat,  but 
he  swallowed  it  again;  and  then  he  stood  there 
shaking  as  if  a  dozen  agues  had  taken  charge  of  him 
at  once,  and  so  weak  that  he  thought  he  must  surely 
fall  to  tHe  ground.  He  knew  where  he  was.  He 
knew  he  was  within  five  steps  of  the  stile  leading 
into  Widow  Douglas's  grounds.  Very  well,  he 
thought,  let  them  bury  it  there;  it  won't  be  hard 
to  find. 

Now  there  was  a  voice — a  very  low  voice — 
Injun  Joe's: 

"Damn  her,  maybe  she's  got  company — there's 
lights,  late  as  it  is." 

"I  can't  see  any." 

This  was  that  stranger's  voice — the  stranger  of 
the  haunted  house.  A  deadly  chill  went  to  Huck's 
heart — this,  then,  was  the  "revenge"  job!  His 

235 


MARK    TWAIN 

thought  was,  to  fly.  Then  he  remembered  that  the 
Widow  Douglas  had  been  kind  to  him  more  than 
once,  and  maybe  these  men  were  going  to  murder 
her.  He  wished  he  dared  venture  to  warn  her;  but 
he  knew  he  didn't  dare — they  might  come  and 
catch  him.  He  thought  all  this  and  more  in  the 
moment  that  elapsed  between  the  stranger's  remark 
and  Injun  Joe's  next — which  was — 

"Because  the  bush  is  in  your  way.  Now — this 
way — now  you  see,  don't  you?" 

"Yes.  Well,  there  is  company  there,  I  reckon. 
Better  give  it  up." 

"Give  it  up,  and  I  just  leaving  this  country  for 
ever!  Give  it  up  and  maybe  never  have  another 
chance.  I  tell  you  again,  as  I've  told  you  before,  I 
don't  care  for  her  swag — you  may  have  it.  But 
her  husband  was  rough  on  me — many  times  he  was 
rough  on  me — and  mainly  he  was  the  justice  of  the 
peace  that  jugged  me  for  a  vagrant.  And  that 
ain't  all.  It  ain't  a  millionth  part  of  it!  He  had 
me  horsewhipped! — horsewhipped  in  front  of  the  jail, 
like  a  nigger ! — with  all  the  town  looking  on !  HORSE 
WHIPPED! — do  you  understand?  He  took  advan 
tage  of  me  and  died.  But  I'll  take  it  out  of 
her.11 

1 '  Oh,  don't  kill  her !     Don't  do  that !" 

<£RilP?  Who  said  anything  about  killing?  I 
would  kill  him  if  he  was  here;  but  not  her.  When 
you  want  to  get  revenge  on  a  woman  you  don't  kill 
her — bosh!  you  go  for  her  looks.  You  slit  her 
nostrils — you  notch  her  ears  like  a  sow!" 

"By  God,  that's—" 

236 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"Keep  your  opinion  to  yourself!  It  will  be  safest 
for  you.  I'll  tie  her  to  the  bed.  If  she  bleeds  to 
death,  is  that  my  fault?  I'll  not  cry,  if  she  does. 
My  friend,  you'll  help  in  this  thing — for  my  sake — 
that's  why  you're  here — I  mightn't  be  able  alone. 
If  you  flinch,  I'll  kill  you.  Do  you  understand 
that?  And  if  I  have  to  kill  you,  I'll  kill  her — and 
then  I  reckon  nobody  '11  ever  know  much  about  who 
done  this  business.1' 

"Well,  if  it's  got  to  be  done,  let's  get  at  it.  The 
quicker  the  better — I'm  all  in  a  shiver." 

"Do  it  now?  And  company  there?  Look  here 
— I'll  get  suspicious  of  you,  first  thing  you  know. 
No — we'll  wait  till  the  lights  are  out — there's  no 
hurry." 

Huck  felt  that  a  silence  was  going  to  ensue — a 
thing  still  more  awful  than  any  amount  of  murderous 
talk;  so  he  held  his  breath  and  stepped  gingerly 
back;  planted  his  foot  carefully  and  firmly,  after 
balancing,  one-legged,  in  a  precarious  way  and  al 
most  toppling  over,  first  on  one  side  and  then  on 
the  other.  He  took  another  step  back,  with  the 
same  elaboration  and  the  same  risks;  then  another 
and  another,  and — a  twig  snapped  under  his  foot! 
His  breath  stopped  and  he  listened.  There  was  no 
sound — the  stillness  was  perfect.  His  gratitude 
was  measureless.  Now  he  turned  in  his  tracks,  be 
tween  the  walls  of  sumach  bushes — turned  himself 
as  carefully  as  if  he  were  a  ship — and  then  stepped 
quickly  but  cautiously  along.  When  he  emerged 
at  the  quarry  he  felt  secure,  and  so  he  picked  up 
his  nimble  heels  and  flew.  Down,  down  he  sped,  till 

23? 


MARK    TWAIN 

he  reached  the  Welshman's.  He  banged  at  the 
door,  and  presently  the  heads  of  the  old  man  and 
his  two  stalwart  sons  were  thrust  from  windows. 

"What's  the  row  there?  Who's  banging?  What 
do  you  want?" 

"Let  me  in— quick!    I'll  tell  everything." 

"Why,  who  are  you?" 

"Huckleberry  Finn — quick,  let  me  in!" 

"Huckleberry  Finn,  indeed!  It  ain't  a  name  to 
open  many  doors,  I  judge!  But  let  him  in,  lads, 
and  let's  see  what's  the  trouble." 

"Please  don't  ever  tell  I  told  you,"  were  Huck's 
first  words  when  he  got  in.  "Please  don't — I'd 
be  killed,  sure — but  the  widow's  been  good  friends 
to  me  sometimes,  and  I  want  to  tell — I  will  tell  if 
you'll  promise  you  won't  ever  say  it  was  me." 

"By  George,  he  has  got  something  to  tell,  or  he 
wouldn't  act  so!"  exclaimed  the  old  man;  "out  with 
it  and  nobody  here'll  ever  tell,  lad." 

Three  minutes  later  the  old  man  and  his  sons,  well 
armed,  were  up  the  hill,  and  just  entering  the 
sumach  path  on  tiptoe,  their  weapons  in  their  hands. 
Huck  accompanied  them  no  farther.  He  hid  be 
hind  a  great  boulder  and  fell  to  listening.  There 
was  a  lagging,  anxious  silence,  and  then  all  of  a 
sudden  there  was  an  explosion  of  firearms  and  a 
cry. 

Huck  waited  for  no  particulars.  He  sprang  away 
and  sped  down  the  hill  as  fast  as  his  legs  could  carry 
him. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

AS  the  earliest  suspicion  of  dawn  appeared  on 
/~\  Sunday  morning,  Huck  came  groping  up  the 
hill  and  rapped  gently  at  the  old  Welshman's  door. 
The  inmates  were  asleep,  but  it  was  a  sleep  that  was 
set  on  a  hair-trigger,  on  account  of  the  exciting 
episode  of  the  night.  A  call  came  from  a  window: 

"Who's  there!" 

Huck's  scared  voice  answered  in  a  low  tone: 

"Please  let  me  in!     It's  only  Huck  Finn!" 

"It's  a  name  that  can  open  this  door  night  or 
day,  lad! — and  welcome!" 

These  were  strange  words  to  the  vagabond  boy's 
ears,  and  the  pleasantest  he  had  ever  heard.  He 
could  not  recollect  that  the  closing  word  had  ever 
been  applied  in  his  case  before.  The  door  was 
quickly  unlocked,  and  he  entered.  Huck  was  given 
a  seat  and  the  old  man  and  his  brace  of  tall  sons 
speedily  dressed  themselves. 

"Now,  my  boy,  I  hope  you're  good  and  hungry, 
because  breakfast  will  be  ready  as  soon  as  the  sun's 
up,  and  we'll  have  a  piping  hot  one,  too — make 
yourself  easy  about  that!  I  and  the  boys  hoped 
you'd  turn  up  and  stop  here  last  night." 

"I  was  awful  scared,"  said  Huck,  "and  I  run. 
I  took  out  when  the  pistols  went  off,  and  I  didn't 

239 


MARK    TWAIN 

stop  for  three  mile.  I've  come  now  becuz  I  wanted 
to  know  about  it,  you  know;  and  I  come  before 
daylight  becuz  I  didn't  want  io  run  acrost  them 
devils,  even  if  they  was  dead." 

"Well,  poor  chap,  you  do  look  as  if  you'd  had  a 
hard  .night  of  it — but  there's  a  bed  here  for  you 
when  you've  had  your  breakfast.  No,  they  ain't 
dead,  lad — we  are  sorry  enough  for  that.  You  see 
we  knew  right  where  to  put  our  hands  on  them,  by 
your  description;  so  we  crept  along  on  tiptoe  till  we 
got  within  fifteen  feet  of  them — dark  as  a  cellar 
that  sumach  path  was — and  just  then  I  found  I  was 
going  to  sneeze.  It  was  the  meanest  kind  of  luck! 
I  tried  to  keep  it  back,  but  no  use — 'twas  bound  to 
come,  and  it  did  come!  I  was  in  the  lead  with  my 
pistol  raised,  and  when  the  sneeze  started  those 
scoundrels  a-rustling  to  get  out  of  the  path,  I  sung 
out,  'Fire,  boys!'  and  blazed  away  at  the  place 
where  the  rustling  was.  So  did  the  boys.  But 
they  were  off  in  a  jiffy,  those  villains,  and  we  after 
them,  down  through  the  woods.  I  judge  we  never 
touched  them.  They  fired  a  shot  apiece  as  they 
started,  but  their  bullets  whizzed  by  and  didn't  do 
us  any  harm.  As  soon  as  we  lost  the  sound  of  their 
feet  we  quit  chasing,  and  went  down  and  stirred  up 
the  constables.  They  got  a  posse  together,  and 
went  off  to  guard  the  river-bank,  and  as  soon  as  it  is 
light  the  sheriff  and  a  gang  are  going  to  beat  up  the 
woods.  My  boys  will  be  with  them  presently.  I 
wish  we  had  some  sort  of  description  of  those  ras 
cals — 'twould  help  a  good  deal.  But  you  couldn't 
see  what  they  were  like,  in  the  dark,  lad,  I  suppose?" 

240 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

"Oh,  yes,  I  saw  them_  down-town  and  follered 
them." 

"Splendid!  Describe  them — describe  them,  my 
boy!" 

"One's  the  old  deaf  and  dumb  Spaniard  that's 
ben  around  here  once  or  twice,  and  t 'other's  a  mean- 
looking,  ragged— 

"That's  enough,  lad,  we  know  the  men!  Hap 
pened  on  them  in  the  woods  back  of  the  widow's 
one  day,  and  they  slunk  away.  Off  with  you,  boys, 
and  tell  the  sheriff — get  your  breakfast  to-morrow 
morning!" 

The  Welshman's  sons  departed  at  once.  As  they 
were  leaving  the  room  Huck  sprang  up  and  ex 
claimed  : 

"Oh,  please  don't  tell  anybody  it  was  me  that 
bio  wed  on  them!  Oh,  please!" 

"All  right  if  you  say  it,  Huck,  but  you  ought  to 
have  the  credit  of  what  you  did." 

4 '  Oh,  no,  no !    Please  don't  tell !" 

When  the  young  men  were  gone,  the  old  Welsh 
man  said : 

"They  won't  tell— and  I  won't.  But  why  don't 
you  want  it  known?" 

Huck  would  not  explain,  further  than  to  say  that 
he  already  knew  too  much  about  one  of  those  men 
and  would  not  have  the  man  know  that  he  knew 
anything  against  him  for  the  whole  world — he  would 
be  killed  for  knowing  it,  sure. 

The  old  man  promised  secrecy  once  more,  and  said : 

"How  did  you  come  to  follow  these  fellows,  lad? 
Were  they  looking  suspicious?" 

241 


MARK    TWAIN 

Huck  was  silent  while  he  framed  a  duly  cautious 
reply.  Then  he  said: 

"Well,  you  see,  I'm  a  kind  of  a  hard  lot — least 
everybody  says  so,  and  I  don't  see  nothing  agin  it — 
and  sometimes  I  can't  sleep  much  on  accounts  of 
thinking  about  it  and  sort  of  trying  to  strike  out  a 
new  way  of  doing.  That  was  the  way  of  it  last 
night.  I  couldn't  sleep,  and  so  I  come  along  up 
street  'bout  midnight,  a-turning  it  all  over,  and 
when  I  got  to  that  old  shackly  brick  store  by  the 
Temperance  Tavern,  I  backed  up  agin  the  wall  to 
have  another  think.  Well,  just  then  along  comes 
these  two  chaps  slipping  along  close  by  me,  with 
something  under  their  arm  and  I  reckoned  they'd 
stole  it.  One  was  a-smoking,  and  t'other  one  wanted 
a  light;  so  they  stopped  right  before  me  and  the 
cigars  lit  up  their  faces  and  I  see  that  the  big  one 
was  the  deaf  and  dumb  Spaniard,  by  his  white 
whiskers  and  the  patch  on  his  eye,  and  t'other  one 
was  a  rusty,  ragged-looking  devil." 

"Could  you  see  the  rags  by  the  light  of  the 
cigars?" 

This  staggered  Huck  for  a  moment.    Then  he  said : 

"Well,  I  don't  know — but  somehow  it  seems  as 
if  I  did." 

"Then  they  went  on,  and  you — " 

"Follered  'em — yes.  That  was  it.  I  wanted  to 
see  what  was  up — they  sneaked  along  so.  I  dogged 
'em  to  the  widder's  stile,  and  stood  in  the  dark  and 
heard  the  ragged  one  beg  for  the  widder,  and  the 
Spaniard  swear  he'd  spile  her  looks  just  as  I  told 
you  and  your  two — " 

242 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"What!    The  deaf  and  dumb  man  said  all  that!" 

Huck  had  made  another  terrible  mistake!  He 
was  trying  his  best  to  keep  the  old  man  from  getting 
the  faintest  hint  of  who  the  Spaniard  might  be,  and 
yet  his  tongue  seemed  determined  to  get  him  into 
trouble  in  spite  of  all  he  could  do.  He  made  several 
efforts  to  creep  out  of  his  scrape,  but  the  old  man's 
eye  was  upon  him  and  he  made  blunder  after  blunder. 
Presently  the  Welshman  said : 

"My  boy,  don't  be  afraid  of  me.  I  wouldn't 
hurt  a  hair  of  your  head  for  all  the  world.  No — 
I'd  protect  you — I'd  protect  you.  This  Spaniard 
is  not  deaf  and  dumb;  you've  let  that  slip  without 
intending  it;  you  can't  cover  that  up  now.  You 
know  something  about  that  Spaniard  that  you  want 
to  keep  dark.  Now  trust  me — tell  me  what  it  is, 
and  trust  me — I  won't  betray  you." 

Huck  looked  into  the  old  man's  honest  eyes  a 
moment,  then  bent  over  and  whispered  in  his 
ear: 

"Tain't  a  Spaniard— it's  Injun  Joe!" 

The  Welshman  almost  jumped  out  of  his  chair. 
In  a  moment  he  said: 

"It's  all  plain  enough,  now.  When  you  talked 
about  notching  ears  and  slitting  noses  I  judged  that 
that  was  your  own  embellishment,  because  white 
men  don't  take  that  sort  of  revenge.  But  an  Injun! 
That's  a  different  matter  altogether." 

During  breakfast  the  talk  went  on,  and  in  the 
course  of  it  the  old  man  said  that  the  last  thing 
which  he  and  his  sons  had  done,  before  going  to 
bed,  was  to  get  a  lantern  and  examine  the  stile  and 

243 


MARK    TWAIN 

its  vicinity  for  marks  of  blood.    They  found  none, 
but  captured  a  bulky  bundle  of — 

"Of  WHAT?" 

If  the  words  had  been  lightning  they  could  not 
have  leaped  with  a  more  stunning  suddenness  from 
Huck's  blanched  lips.  His  eyes  were  staring  wide, 
now,  and  his  breath  suspended — waiting  for  the 
answer.  The  Welshman  started — stared  in  return 
—  three  seconds  —  five  seconds  —  ten  —  then  re 
plied: 

"Of  burglar's  tools.  Why,  what's  the  matter  with 
you?" 

Huck  sank  back,  panting  gently,  but  deeply, 
unutterably  grateful.  The  Welshman  eyed  him 
gravely,  curiously — and  presently  said: 

"Yes,  burglar's  tools.  That  appears  to  relieve 
you  a  good  deal.  But  what  did  give  you  that  turn? 
What  were  you  expecting  we'd  found?" 

Huck  was  in  a  close  place — the  inquiring  eye 
was  upon  him — he  would  have  given  anything  for 
material  for  a  plausible  answer — nothing  suggested 
itself — the  inquiring  eye  was  boring  deeper  and 
deeper — a  senseless  reply  offered — there  was  no 
time  to  weigh  it,  so  at  a  venture  he  uttered  it — 
feebly: 

"Sunday-school  books,  maybe." 

Poor  Huck  was  too  distressed  to  smile,  but  the 
old  man  laughed  loud  and  joyously,  shook  up  the 
details  of  his  anatomy  from  head  to  foot,  and  ended 
by  saying  that  such  a  laugh  was  money  in  a  man's 
pocket,  because  it  cut  down  the  doctor's  bills  like 
everything.  Then  he  added : 

244 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"Poor  old  chap,  you're  white  and  jaded — you 
ain't  well  a  bit — no  wonder  you're  a  little  flighty 
and  off  your  balance.  But  you'll  come  out  of  it. 
Rest  and  sleep  will  fetch  you  out  all  right,  I  hope.'* 

Huck  was  irritated  to  think  he  had  been  such  a 
goose  and  betrayed  such  a  suspicious  excitement,  for 
he  had  dropped  the  idea  that  the  parcel  brought 
from  the  tavern  was  the  treasure,  as  soon  as  he  had 
heard  the  talk  at  the  widow's  stile.  He  had  only 
thought  it  was  not  the  treasure,  however — he  had  not 
known  that  it  wasn't — and  so  the  suggestion  of  a 
captured  bundle  was  too  much  for  his  self-posses 
sion.  But  on  the  whole  he  felt  glad  the  little  epi 
sode  had  happened,  for  now  he  knew  beyond  all 
question  that  that  bundle  was  not  the  bundle,  and  so 
his  mind  was  at  rest  and  exceedingly  comfortable. 
In  fact,  everything  seemed  to  be  drifting  just  in  the 
right  direction,  now;  the  treasure  must  be  still  in 
No.  2,  the  men  would  be  captured  and  jailed  that 
day,  and  he  and  Tom  could  seize  the  gold  that  night 
without  any  trouble  or  any  fear  of  interruption. 

Just  as  breakfast  was  completed  there  was  a  knock 
at  the  door.  Huck  jumped  for  a  hiding-place,  for 
he  had  no  mind  to  be  connected  even  remotely  with 
the  late  event.  The  Welshman  admitted  several 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  among  them  the  Widow 
Douglas,  and  noticed  that  groups  of  citizens  were 
climbing  up  the  hill — to  stare  at  the  stile.  So  the 
news  had  spread. 

The  Welshman  had  to  tell  the  story  of  the  night 
to  the  visitors.  The  widow's  gratitude  for  her 
preservation  was  outspoken. 

17  245 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Don't  say  a  word  about  it,  madam.  There's 
another  that  you're  more  beholden  to  than  you  are 
to  me  and  my  boys,  maybe,  but  he  don't  allow  me 
to  tell  his  name.  We  wouldn't  have  been  there  but 
for  him." 

Of  course  this  excited  a  curiosity  so  vast  that  it 
almost  belittled  the  main  matter — but  the  Welshman 
allowed  it  to  eat  into  the  vitals  of  his  visitors,  and 
through  them  be  transmitted  to  the  whole  town,  for 
he  refused  to  part  with  his  secret.  When  all  else 
had  been  learned,  the  widow  said: 

*  *  I  went  to  sleep  reading  in  bed  and  slept  straight 
through  all  that  noise.  Why  didn't  you  come  and 
wake  me?" 

"We  judged  it  warn't  worth  while.  Those  fel 
lows  warn't  likely  to  come  again — they  hadn't  any 
tools  left  to  work  with,  and  what  was  the  use  of 
waking  you  up  and  scaring  you  to  death  ?  My  three 
negro  men  stood  guard  at  your  house  all  the  rest  of 
the  night.  They've  just  come  back." 

More  visitors  came,  and  the  story  had  to  be  told 
and  retold  for  a  couple  of  hours  more. 

There  was  no  Sabbath-school  during  day-school 
vacation,  but  everybody  was  early  at  church.  The 
stirring  event  was  well  canvassed.  News  came  that 
not  a  sign  of  the  two  villains  had  been  yet  dis 
covered.  When  the  sermon  was  finished,  Judge 
Thatcher's  wife  dropped  alongside  of  Mrs.  Harper 
as  she  moved  down  the  aisle  with  the  crowd  and 
said: 

"Is  my  Becky  going  to  sleep  all  day?  I  just 
expected  she  would  be  tired  to  death." 

246 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

4 'Your  Becky?" 

"Yes,"  with  a  startled  look  — "didn't  she  stay 
with  you  last  night?" 

"Why,  no." 

Mrs.  Thatcher  turned  pale,  and  sank  into  a  pew, 
just  as  Aunt  Polly,  talking  briskly  with  a  friend, 
passed  by.  Aunt  Polly  said: 

"Good  morning,  Mrs.  Thatcher.  Good  morning, 
Mrs.  Harper.  I've  got  a  boy  that's  turned  up 
missing.  I  reckon  my  Tom  stayed  at  your  house 
last  night — one  of  "y°u*  And  now  he's  afraid  to 
come  to  church.  I've  got  to  settle  with  him." 

Mrs.  Thatcher  shook  her  head  feebly  and  tinned 
paler  than  ever. 

"He  didn't  stay  with  us,"  said  Mrs.  Harper, 
beginning  to  look  uneasy.  A  marked  anxiety  came 
into  Aunt  Polly's  face. 

' '  Joe  Harper,  have  you  seen  my  Tom  this  morning  ?" 

"No'm." 

"When  did  you  see  him  last?" 

Joe  tried  to  remember,  but  was  not  sure  he  could 
say.  The  people  had  stopped  moving  out  of  church. 
Whispers  passed  along,  and  a  boding  uneasiness 
took  possession  of  every  countenance.  Children 
were  anxiously  questioned,  and  young  teachers. 
They  all  said  they  had  not  noticed  whether  Tom  and 
Becky  were  on  board  the  ferryboat  on  the  home 
ward  trip;  it  was  dark;  no  one  thought  of  inquiring 
if  any  one  was  missing.  One  young  man  finally 
blurted  out  his  fear  that  they  were  still  in  the  cave! 
Mrs.  Thatcher  swooned  away.  Aunt  Polly  fell  to 
crying  and  wringing  her  hands, 

247 


MARK     TWAIN 

The  alarm  swept  from  lip  to  lip,  from  group  to 
group,  from  street  to  street,  and  within  five  minutes 
the  bells  were  wildly  clanging  and  the  whole  town 
was  up !  The  Cardiff  Hill  episode  sank  into  instant 
insignificance,  the  burglars  were  forgotten,  horses 
were  saddled,  skiffs  were  manned,  the  ferryboat 
ordered  out,  and  before  the  horror  was  half  an  hour 
old  two  hundred  men  were  pouring  down  highroad 
and  river  toward  the  cave. 

All  the  long  afternoon  the  village  seemed  empty 
and  dead.  Many  women  visited  Aunt  Polly  and 
Mrs.  Thatcher  and  tried  to  comfort  them.  They 
cried  with  them,  too,  and  that  was  still  better  than 
words.  All  the  tedious  night  the  town  waited  for 
news;  but  when  the  morning  dawned  at  last,  all  the 
word  that  came  was,  "Send  more  candles — and 
send  food/*  Mrs.  Thatcher  was  almost  crazed;  and 
Aunt  Polly,  also.  Judge  Thatcher  sent  messages  of 
hope  and  encouragement  from  the  cave,  but  they 
conveyed  no  real  cheer. 

The  old  Welshman  came  home  toward  daylight, 
spattered  with  candle-grease,  smeared  with  clay,  and 
almost  worn  out.  He  found  Huck  still  in  the  bed 
that  had  been  provided  for  him,  and  delirious  with 
fever.  The  physicians  were  all  at  the  cave,  so  the 
Widow  Douglas  came  and  took  charge  of  the  pa 
tient.  She  said  she  would  do  her  best  by  him, 
because,  whether  he  was  good,  bad,  or  indifferent, 
he  was  the  Lord's,  and  nothing  that  was  the  Lord's 
was  a  thing  to  be  neglected.  The  Welshman  said 
Huck  had  good  spots  in  him,  and  the  widow  said : 

"You  can  depend  on  it.  That's  the  Lord's 
248 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

mark.  He  don't  leave  it  off.  He  never  does. 
Puts  it  somewhere  on  every  creature  that  comes 
from  His  hands." 

Early  in  the  forenoon  parties  of  jaded  men  began 
to  straggle  into  the  village,  but  the  strongest  of  the 
citizens  continued  searching.  All  the  news  that 
could  be  gained  was  that  remotenesses  of  the  cavern 
were  being  ransacked  that  had  never  been  visited 
before;  that  every  corner  and  crevice  was  going  to 
be  thoroughly  searched;  that  wherever  one  wandered 
through  the  maze  of  passages,  lights  were  to  be 
seen  flitting  hither  and  thither  in  the  distance,  and 
shoutings  and  pistol-shots  sent  their  hollow  rever 
berations  to  the  ear  down  the  somber  aisles.  In  one 
place,  far  from  the  section  usually  traversed  by 
tourists,  the  names  " BECKY  &  TOM"  had  been 
found  traced  upon  the  rocky  wall  with  candle-smoke, 
and  near  at  hand  a  grease-soiled  bit  of  ribbon.  Mrs. 
Thatcher  recognized  the  ribbon  and  cried  over  it. 
She  said  it  was  the  last  relic  she  should  ever  have  of 
her  child;  and  that  no  other  memorial  of  her  could 
ever  be  so  precious,  because  this  one  parted  latest 
from  the  living  body  before  the  awful  death  came. 
Some  said  that  now  and  then,  in  the  cave,  a  far 
away  speck  of  light  would  glimmer,  and  then  a 
glorious  shout  would  burst  forth  and  a  score  of  men 
go  trooping  down  the  echoing  aisle — and  then  a 
sickening  disappointment  always  followed;  the  chil 
dren  were  not  there;  it  was  only  a  searcher's  light. 

Three  dreadful  days  and  nights  dragged  their 
tedious  hours  along,  and  the  village  sank  into  a 
hopeless  stupor.  No  one  had  heart  for  anything. 

249 


MARK    TWAIN 

The  accidental  discovery,  just  made,  that  the  pro 
prietor  of  the  Temperance  Tavern  kept  liquor  on 
his  premises,  scarcely  fluttered  the  public  pulse,  tre 
mendous  as  the  fact  was.  In  a  lucid  interval,  Huck 
feebly  led  up  to  the  subject  of  taverns,  and  finally 
asked — dimly  dreading  the  worst — if  anything  had 
been  discovered  at  the  Temperance  Tavern  since  he 
had  been  ill. 

"Yes,"  said  the  widow. 

Huck  started  up  in  bed,  wild-eyed : 

"What!    What  was  it?" 

"Liquor! — and  the  place  has  been  shut  up.  Lie 
down,  child — what  a  turn  you  did  give  me!" 

"Only  tell  me  just  one  thing — only  just  one — 
please!  Was  it  Tom  Sawyer  that  found  it?" 

The  widow  burst  into  tears.  "Hush,  hush,  child, 
hush!  I've  told  you  before,  you  must  not  talk. 
You  are  very,  very  sick!" 

Then  nothing  but  liquor  had  been  found;  there 
would  have  been  a  great  powwow  if  it  had  been 
the  gold.  So  the  treasure  was  gone  forever — gone 
forever!  But  what  could  she  be  crying  about? 
Curious  that  she  should  cry. 

These  thoughts  worked  their  dim  way  through 
Huck's  mind,  and  under  the  weariness  they  gave 
him  he  fell  asleep.  The  widow  said  to  herself: 

"There — he's  asleep,  poor  wreck.  Tom  Sawyer 
find  it!  Pity  but  somebody  could  find  Tom  Saw 
yer!  Ah,  there  ain't  many  left,  now,  that's  got 
hope  enough,  or  strength  enough,  either,  to  go  on 
searching." 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

NOW  to  return  to  Tom  and  Becky's  share  in  the 
picnic.  They  tripped  along  the  murky  aisles 
with  the  rest  of  the  company,  visiting  the  familiar 
wonders  of  the  cave — wonders  dubbed  with  rather 
over-descriptive  names,  such  as  "The  Dra wing- 
Room,"  "The  Cathedral,"  "Aladdin's  Palace,"  and 
so  on.  Presently  the  hide-and-seek  frolicking  be 
gan,  and  Tom  and  Becky  engaged  in  it  with  zeal 
until  the  exertion  began  to  grow  a  trifle  wearisome; 
then  they  wandered  down  a  sinuous  avenue  holding 
their  candles  aloft  and  reading  the  tangled  web- 
work  of  names,  dates,  post-office  addi esses,  and 
mottoes  with  which  the  rocky  walls  had  been  fres 
coed  (in  candle-smoke).  Still  drifting  along  and 
talking,  they  scarcely  noticed  that  they  were  now 
in  a  part  of  the  cave  whose  walls  were  not  frescoed. 
They  smoked  their  own  names  under  an  overhanging 
shelf  and  moved  on.  Presently  they  came  to  a 
place  where  a  little  stream  of  water,  trickling  over  a 
ledge  and  carrying  a  limestone  sediment  with  it, 
had,  in  the  slow-dragging  ages,  formed  a  laced  and 
ruffled  Niagara  in  gleaming  and  imperishable  stone. 
Tom  squeezed  his  small  body  behind  it  in  order  to 
illuminate  it  for  Becky's  gratification.  He  found 
that  it  curtained  a  sort  of  steep  natural  stairway 

2$! 


MARK    TWAIN 

which  was  inclosed  between  narrow  walls,  and  at 
once  the  ambition  to  be  a  discoverer  seized  him. 
Becky  responded  to  his  call,  and  they  made  a  smoke- 
mark  for  future  guidance,  and  started  upon  their 
quest.  They  wound  this  way  and  that,  far  down 
into  the  secret  depths  of  the  cave,  made  another 
mark,  and  branched  off  in  search  of  novelties  to  tell 
the  upper  world  about.  In  one  place  they  found  a 
spacious  cavern,  from  whose  ceiling  depended  a  mul 
titude  of  shining  stalactites  of  the  length  and  circum 
ference  of  a  man's  leg;  they  walked  all  about  it, 
wondering  and  admiring,  and  presently  left  it  by  one 
of  the  numerous  passages  that  opened  into  it.  This 
shortly  brought  them  to  a  bewitching  spring,  whose 
basin  was  incrusted  with  a  frostwork  of  glittering 
crystals ;  it  was  in  the  midst  of  a  cavern  whose  walls 
were  supported  by  many  fantastic  pillars  which  had 
been  formed  by  the  joining  of  great  stalactites  and 
stalagmites  together,  the  result  of  the  ceaseless  water- 
drip  of  centuries.  Under  the  roof  vast  knots  of  bats 
had  packed  themselves  together,  thousands  in  a 
bunch;  the  lights  disturbed  the  creatures,  and  they 
came  flocking  down  by  hundreds,  squeaking  and  dart 
ing  furiously  at  the  candles.  Tom  knew  their  ways 
and  the  danger  of  this  sort  of  conduct.  He  seized 
Becky's  hand  and  hurried  her  into  the  first  corridor 
that  offered;  and  none  too  soon,  for  a  bat  struck 
Becky's  light  out  with  its  wing  while  she  was  passing 
out  of  the  cavern.  The  bats  chased  the  children  a 
good  distance;  but  the  fugitives  plunged  into  every 
new  passage  that  offered,  and  at  last  got  rid  of  the 
perilous  things,  Tom  found  a  subterranean  lake, 

252 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

shortly,  which  stretched  its  dim  length  away  until 
its  shape  was  lost  in  the  shadows.  He  wanted  to 
explore  its  borders,  but  concluded  that  it  would  be 
best  to  sit  down  and  rest  awhile,  first.  Now,  for 
the  first  time,  the  deep  stillness  of  the  place  laid  a 
clammy  hand  upon  the  spirits  of  the  children. 
Becky  said: 

"Why,  I  didn't  notice,  but  it  seems  ever  so  long 
since  I  heard  of  any  of  the  others." 

"Come  to. think,  Becky,  we  are  away  down  be 
low  them — and  I  don't  know  how  far  away  north, 
or  south,  or  east,  or  whichever  it  is.  We  couldn't 
hear  them  here." 

Becky  grew  apprehensive. 

"I  wonder  how  long  we've  been  down  here,  Tom. 
We  better  start  back." 

"Yes,  I  reckon  we  better.     P'raps  we  better." 

"Can  you  find  the  way,  Tom?  It's  all  a  mixed- 
up  crookedness  to  me." 

"I  reckon  I  could  find  it — but  then  the  bats.  If 
they  put  both  our  candles  out  it  will  be  an  awful 
fix.  Let's  try  some  other  way,  so  as  not  to  go 
through  there." 

"Well.  But  I  hope  we  won't  get  lost.  It  would 
be  so  awful!"  and  the  girl  shuddered  at  the  thought 
of  the  dreadful  possibilities. 

They  started  through  a  corridor,  and  traversed  it 
in  silence  a  long  way,  glancing  at  each  new  opening 
to  see  if  there  was  anything  familiar  about  the  look 
of  it;  but  they  were  all  strange.  Every  time  Tom 
made  an  examination,  Becky  would  watch  his  face 
for  an  encouraging  sign,  and  he  would  say  cheerily: 

253 


MARK    TWAIN 

"Oh,  it's  all  right.  This  ain't  the  one,  but  we'll 
come  to  it  right  away!" 

But  he  felt  less  and  less  hopeful  with  each  failure, 
and  presently  began  to  turn  off  into  diverging  ave 
nues  at  sheer  random,  in  desperate  hope  of  finding 
the  one  that  was  wanted.  He  still  said  it  was  "all 
right,"  but  there  was  such  a  leaden  dread  at  his 
heart  that  the  words  had  lost  their  ring  and  sounded 
just  as  if  he  had  said,  "All  is  lost!"  Becky  clung 
to  his  side  in  an  anguish  of  fear,  and  tried  hard  to 
keep  back  the  tears,  but  they  would  come.  At  last 
she  said : 

"Oh,  Tom,  never  mind  the  bats,  let's  go  back 
that  way!  We  seem  to  get  worse  and  worse  off  all 
the  time." 

Tom  stopped. 

"Listen!"  said  he. 

Profound  silence;  silence  so  deep  that  even  their 
breathings  were  conspicuous  in  the  hush.  Tom 
shouted.  The  call  went  echoing  down  the  empty 
aisles  and  died  out  in  the  distance  in  a  faint  sound 
that  resembled  a  ripple  of  mocking  laughter. 

"Oh,  don't  do  it  again,  Tom,  it  is  too  horrid," 
said  Becky. 

"It  is  horrid,  but  I  better,  Becky;  they  might 
hear  us,  you  know,"  and  he  shouted  again. 

The  "might"  was  even  a  chillier  horror  than  the 
ghostly  laughter,  it  so  confessed  a  perishing  hope. 
The  children  stood  still  and  listened;  but  there  was 
no  result.  Tom  turned  upon  the  back  track  at  once, 
and  hurried  his  steps.  It  was  but  a  little  while  be 
fore  a  certain  indecision  in  his  manner  revealed  an- 

254 


ADVENTURES    OP    TOM    SAWYER 

other  fearful  fact  to  Becky — he  could  not  find  his 
way  back! 

"Oh,  Tom,  you  didn't  make  any  marks!" 

"Becky,  I  was  such  a  fool!  Such  a  fool!  I 
never  thought  we  might  want  to  come  back!  No — 
I  can't  find  the  way.  It's  all  mixed  up." 

"Tom,  Tom,  we're  lost!  we're  lost!  We  never 
can  get  out  of  this  awful  place!  Oh,  why  did  we 
ever  leave  the  others!" 

She  sank  to  the  ground  and  burst  into  such  a 
frenzy  of  crying  that  Tom  was  appalled  with  the 
idea  that  she  might  die,  or  lose  her  reason.  He  sat 
down  by  her  and  put  his  arms  around  her;  she 
buried  her  face  in  his  bosom,  she  clung  to  him,  she 
poured  out  her  terrors,  her  unavailing  regrets,  and 
the  far  echoes  turned  them  all  to  jeering  laughter. 
Tom  begged  her  to  pluck  up  hope  again,  and  she 
said  she  could  not.  He  fell  to  blaming  and  abusing 
himself  for  getting  her  into  this  miserable  situation; 
this  had  a  better  effect.  She  said  she  would  try  to 
hope  again,  she  would  get  up  and  follow  wherever 
he  might  lead  if  only  he  would  not  talk  like  that  any 
more.  For  he  was  no  more  to  blame  than  she,  she 
said. 

So  they  moved  on  again — aimlessly — simply  at 
random — all  they  could  do  was  to  move,  keep 
moving.  For  a  little  while,  hope  made  a  show  of 
reviving — not  with  any  reason  to  back  it,  but  only 
because  it  is  its  nature  to  revive  when  the  spring  has 
not  been  taken  out  of  it  by  age  and  familiarity  with 
failure. 

By  and  by  Tom  took  Becky's  candle  and  blew  it 

255 


MARK    TWAIN 

out.  This  economy  meant  so  much !  Words  were  not 
needed.  Becky  understood,  and  her  hope  died  again. 
She  knew  that  Tom  had  a  whole  candle  and  three  or 
four  pieces  in  his  pockets — yet  he  must  economize. 

By  and  by,  fatigue  began  to  assert  its  claims ;  the 
children  tried  to  pay  no  attention,  for  it  was  dread 
ful  to  think  of  sitting  down  when  time  was  grown  to 
be  so  precious;  moving,  in  some  direction,  in  any 
direction,  was  at  least  progress  and  might  bear 
fruit;  but  to  sit  down  was  to  invite  death  and 
shorten  its  pursuit. 

At  last  Becky's  frail  limbs  refused  to  carry  her 
farther.  She  sat  down.  Tom  rested  with  her,  and 
they  talked  of  home,  and  the  friends  there,  and  the 
comfortable  beds  and,  above  all,  the  light!  Becky 
cried,  and  Tom  tried  to  think  of  some  way  of  com 
forting  her,  but  all  his  encouragements  were  grown 
threadbare  with  use,  and  sounded  like  sarcasms. 
Fatigue  bore  so  heavily  upon  Becky  that  she  drowsed 
off  to  sleep.  Tom  was  grateful.  He  sat  looking 
into  her  drawn  face  and  saw  it  grow  smooth  and 
natural  under  the  influence  of  pleasant  dreams;  and 
by  and  by  a  smile  dawned  and  rested  there.  The 
peaceful  face  reflected  somewhat  of  peace  and  heal 
ing  into  his  own  spirit,  and  his  thoughts  wandered 
away  to  bygone  times  and  dreamy  memories.  While 
he  was  deep  in  his  musings,  Becky  woke  up  with  a 
breezy  little  laugh — but  it  was  stricken  dead  upon 
her  lips,  and  a  groan  followed  it. 

"Oh,  how  could  I  sleep!    I  wish  I  never,  never 
had  waked!    No!    No,  I  don't,  Tom!    Don't  look 
so!    I  won't  say  it  again." 
*  256 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"I'm  glad  you've  slept,  Becky;  you'll  feel  rested, 
now,  and  we  '11  find  the  way  out." 

"We  can  try,  Tom;  but  I've  seen  such  a  beautiful 
country  in  my  dream.  I  reckon  we  are  going  there." 

"Maybe  not,  maybe  not.  Cheer  up,  Becky,  and 
let's  go  on  trying." 

They  rose  up  and  wandered  along,  hand  in  hand 
and  hopeless.  They  tried  to  estimate  how  long 
they  had  been  in  the  cave,  but  all  they  knew  was 
that  it  seemed  days  and  weeks,  and  yet  it  was  plain 
that  this  could  not  be,  for  their  candles  were  not 
gone  yet.  A  long  time  after  this — they  could  not 
tell  how  long — Tom  said  they  must  go  softly  and 
listen  for  dripping  water — they  must  find  a  spring. 
They  found  one  presently,  and  Tom  said  it  was  time 
to  rest  again.  Both  were  cruelly  tired,  yet  Becky 
said  she  thought  she  could  go  on  a  little  farther. 
She  was  surprised  to  hear  Tom  dissent.  She  could 
not  understand  it.  They  sat  down,  and  Tom 
fastened  his  candle  to  the  wall  in  front  of  them  with 
some  clay.  Thought  was  soon  busy;  nothing  was 
said  for  some  time.  Then  Becky  broke  the  silence: 

"Tom,  I  am  so  hungry!" 

Tom  took  something  out  of  his  pocket. 

"Do  you  remember  this?"  said  he. 

Becky  almost  smiled. 

'It's  our  wedding-cake,  Tom." 

"Yes — I  wish  it  was  as  big  as  a  barrel,  for  it's 
all  we've  got." 

"I  saved  it  from  the  picnic  for  us  to  dream  on, 
Tom,  the  way  grown-up  people  do  with  wedding- 
cake — but  it  '11  be  our — " 

257 


MARK    TWAIN 

She  dropped  the  sentence  where  it  was.    Tom 

divided  the  cake  and  Becky  ate  with  good  appetite, 

while    Tom    nibbled    at    his    moiety.     There    was 

abundance  of  cold  water  to  finish  the  feast  with. 

By  and  by  Becky  suggested  that  they  move  on 

again.     Tom  was  silent  a  moment.     Then  he  said: 

"Becky,  can  you  bear  it  if  I  tell  you  something?" 

Becky's  face  paled,  but  she  thought  she  could. 

"Well,  then,  Becky,  we  must  stay  here,  where 

there's  water  to  drink.    That  little  piece  is  our  last 

candle!'1 

Becky  gave  loose  to  tears  and  wailings.     Tom  did 
what  he  could  to  -comfort  her,  but  with  little  effect. 
At  length  Becky  said: 
"Tom!" 
"Well,  Becky?" 

"They'll  miss  us  and  hunt  for  us!" 
"Yes,  they  will !     Certainly  they  will !' ' 
"Maybe  they're  hunting  for  us  now,  Tom," 
"Why,  I  reckon  maybe  they  are.     I  hope  they 


are." 


"When  would  they  miss  us,  Tom?" 

"When  they  get  back  to  the  boat,  I  reckon." 

"Tom,  it  might  be  dark  then — would  they  notice 

we  hadn't  come?" 

"I  don't  know.     But  anyway,  your  mother  would 

miss  you  as  soon  as  they  got  home." 

A  frightened  look  in  Becky's  face  brought  Tom 

to  his  senses  and  he  saw  that  he  had  made  a  blunder. 

Becky   was   not   to  have   gone   home   that   night! 

The  children  became  silent  and  thoughtful.     In  a 

moment  a  new  burst  of  grief  from  Becky  showed 

258 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

Tom  that  the  thing  in  his  mind  had  struck  hers 
also — that  the  Sabbath  morning  might  be  half 
spent  before  Mrs.  Thatcher  discovered  that  Becky 
was  not  at  Mrs.  Harper's. 

The  children  fastened  their  eyes  upon  their  bit  of 
candle  and  watched  it  melt  slowly  and  pitilessly 
away;  saw  the  half -inch  of  wick  stand  alone  at  last; 
saw  the  feeble  flame  rise  and  fall,  climb  the  thin 
column  of  smoke,  linger  at  its  top  a  moment,  and 
then — the  horror  of  utter  darkness  reigned! 

How  long  afterward  it  was  that  Becky  came  to 
a  slow  consciousness  that  she  was  crying  in  Tom's 
arms,  neither  could  tell.  All  that  they  knew  was, 
that  after  what  seemed  a  mighty  stretch  of  time, 
both  awoke  out  of  a  dead  stupor  of  sleep  and  re 
sumed  their  miseries  once  more.  Tom  said  it 
might  be  Sunday,  now — maybe  Monday.  He  tried 
to  get  Becky  to  talk,  but  her  sorrows  were  too 
oppressive,  all  her  hopes  were  gone.  Tom  said  that 
they  must  have  been  missed  long  ago,  and  no  doubt 
the  search  was  going  on.  He  would  shout  and 
maybe  some  one  would  come.  He  tried  it;  but  in 
the  darkness  the  distant  echoes  sounded  so  hideously 
that  he  tried  it  no  more. 

The  hours  wasted  away,  and  hunger  came  to 
torment  the  captives  again.  A  portion  of  Tom's 
half  of  the  cake  was  left;  they  divided  and  ate  it. 
But  they  seemed  hungrier  than  before.  The  poor 
morsel  of  food  only  whetted  desire. 

By  and  by  Tom  said: 

"'Sh!    Did  you  hear  that?" 

Both  held  their  breath  and  listened.  There  was 
259 


MARK    TWAIN 

a  sound  like  the  faintest,  far-off  shout.  Instantly 
Tom  answered  it,  and,  leading  Becky  by  the  hand, 
started  groping  down  the  corridor  in  its  direction. 
Presently  he  listened  again;  again  the  sound  was 
heard,  and  apparently  a  little  nearer. 

"It's  them!'*  said  Tom;  "they're  coming!  Come 
along,  Becky — we're  all  right  now!" 

The  joy  of  the  prisoners  was  almost  overwhelm 
ing.  Their  speed  was  slow,  however,  because  pit 
falls  were  somewhat  common,  and  had  to  be  guarded 
against.  They  shortly  came  to  one  and  had  to  stop. 
It  might  be  three  feet  deep,  it  might  be  a  hundred — • 
there  was  no  passing  it,  at  any  rate.  Tom  got  down 
on  his  breast  and  reached  as  far  down  as  he  could. 
No  bottom.  They  must  stay  there  and  wait  until 
the  searchers  came.  They  listened;  evidently  the 
distant  shoutings  were  growing  more  distant!  a 
moment  or  two  more  and  they  had  gone  altogether. 
The  heart-sinking  misery  of  it!  Tom  whooped 
until  he  was  hoarse,  but  it  was  of  no  use.  He 
talked  hopefully  to  Becky;  but  an  age  of  anxious 
waiting  passed  and  no  sounds  came  again. 

The  children  groped  their  way  back  to  the  spring. 
The  weary  time  dragged  on;  they  slept  again,  and 
awoke  famished  and  woe-stricken.  Tom  believed  it 
must  be  Tuesday  by  this  time. 

Now  an  idea  struck  him.  There  were  some  side 
passages  near  at  hand.  It  would  be  better  to  ex 
plore  some  of  these  than  bear  the  weight  of  the 
heavy  time  in  idleness.  He  took  a  kite-line  from 
his  pocket,  tied  it  to  a  projection,  and  he  and  Becky 
started,  Tom  in  the  lead,  unwinding  the  line  as  he 

260 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

groped  along.  At  the  end  of  twenty  steps  the 
corridor  ended  in  a  "jumping-off  place."  Tom  got 
down  on  his  knees  and  felt  below,  and  then  as  far 
around  the  corner  as  he  could  reach  with  his  hands 
conveniently;  he  made  an  effort  to  stretch  yet  a 
little  farther  to  the  right,  and  at  that  moment,  not 
twenty  yards  away,  a  human  hand,  holding  a  candle, 
appeared  from  behind  a  rock!  Tom  lifted  up  a 
glorious  shout,  and  instantly  that  hand  was  followed 
by  the  body  it  belonged  to — Injun  Joe's !  Tom  was 
paralyzed;  he  could  not  move.  He  was  vastly 
gratified  the  next  moment  to  see  the  "Spaniard" 
take  to  his  heels  and  get  himself  out  of  sight.  Tom 
wondered  that  Joe  had  not  recognized  his  voice  and 
come  over  and  killed  him  for  testifying  in  court. 
But  the  echoes  must  have  disguised  the  voice. 
Without  doubt,  that  was  it,  he  reasoned.  Tom's 
fright  weakened  every  muscle  in  his  body.  He  said 
to  himself  that  if  he  had  strength  enough  to  get 
back  to  the  spring  he  would  stay  there,  and  nothing 
should  tempt  him  t0'run  the  risk  of  meeting  Injun 
Joe  again.  He  was  careful  to  keep  from  Becky 
what  it  was  he  had  seen.  He  told  her  he  had  only 
shouted  "for  luck." 

But  hunger  and  wretchedness  rise  superior  to  fears 
in  the  long  run.  Another  tedious  wait  at  the  spring 
and  another  long  sleep  brought  changes.  The  chil 
dren  awoke  tortured  with  a  raging  hunger.  Tom 
believed  that  it  must  be  Wednesday  or  Thursday  or 
even  Friday  or  Saturday,  now,  and  that  the  search 
had  been  given  over.  He  proposed  to  explore  an 
other  passage.  He  felt  willing  to  risk  Injun  Joe 
18  261 


MARK    TWAIN 

and  all  other  terrors.  But  Becky  was  very  weak. 
She  had  sunk  into  a  dreary  apathy  and  would  not 
be  roused.  She  said  she  would  wait,  now,  where 
she  was,  and  die — it  would  not  be  long.  She  told 
Tom  to  go  with  the  kite-line  and  explore  if  he 
chose;  but  she  implored  him  to  come  back  every 
little  while  and  speak  to  her;  and  she  made  him 
promise  that  when  the  awful  time  came,  he  would 
stay  by  her  and  hold  her  hand  until  all  was  over. 

Tom  kissed  her,  with  a  choking  sensation  in  his 
throat,  and  made  a  show  of  being  confident  of  find 
ing  the  searchers  or  an  escape  from  the  cave;  then 
he  took  the  kite-line  in  his  hand  and  went  groping 
down  one  of  the  passages  on  his  hands  and  knees, 
distressed  with  hunger  and  sick  with  bodings  of 
coming  doom. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

TUESDAY  afternoon  came,  and  waned  to  the 
twilight.  The  village  of  St.  Petersburg  still 
mourned.  The  lost  children  had  not  been  found. 
Public  prayers  had  been  offered  up  for  them,  and 
many  and  many  a  private  prayer  that  had  the  peti 
tioner's  whole  heart  in  it;  but  still  no  good  news 
came  from  the  cave.  The  majority  of  the  searchers 
had  given  up  the  quest  and  gone  back  to  their  daily 
vocations,  saying  that  it  was  plain  the  children 
could  never  be  found.  Mrs.  Thatcher  was  very  ill, 
and  a  great  part  of  the  time  delirious.  People  said 
it  was  heartbreaking  to  hear  her  call  her  child,  and 
raise  her  head  and  listen  a  whole  minute  at  a  time, 
then  lay  it  wearily  down  again  with  a  moan.  Aunt 
Polly  had  drooped  into  a  settled  melancholy,  and 
her  gray  hair  had  grown  almost  white.  The  village 
went  to  its  rest  on  Tuesday  night,  sad  and  forlorn. 
Away  in  the  middle  of  the  night  a  wild  peal  burst 
from  the  village  bells,  and  in  a  moment  the  streets 
were  swarming  with  frantic  half -clad  people,  who 
shouted,  "Turn  out!  turn  out!  they're  found! 
they're  found!"  Tin  pans  and  horns  were  added 
to  the  din,  the  population  massed  itself  and  moved 
toward  the  river,  met  the  children  coming  in  an 
open  carriage  drawn  by  shouting  citizens,  thronged 

263 


MARK    TWAIN 

around  it,  joined  its  homeward  march,  and  swept 
magnificently  up  the  main  street  roaring  huzzah 
after  huzzah ! 

The  village  was  illuminated;  nobody  went  to  bed 
again;  it  was  the  greatest  night  the  little  town  had 
ever  seen.  During  the  first  half-hour  a  procession 
of  villagers  filed  through  Judge  Thatcher's  house, 
seized  the  saved  ones  and  kissed  them,  squeezed 
Mrs.  Thatcher's  hand,  tried  to  speak  but  couldn't 
— and  drifted  out  raining  tears  all  over  the  place. 

Aunt  Polly's  happiness  was  complete,  and  Mrs. 
Thatcher's  nearly  so.  It  would  be  complete,  how 
ever,  as  soon  as  the  messenger  despatched  with  the 
great  news  to  the  cave  should  get  the  word  to  her 
husband.  Tom  lay  upon  a  sofa  with  an  eager 
auditory  about  him  and  told  the  history  of  the 
wonderful  adventure,  putting  in  many  striking  addi 
tions  to  adorn  it  withal ;  and  closed  with  a  description 
of  how  he  left  Becky  and  went  on  an  exploring 
expedition;  how  he  followed  two  avenues  as  far 
as  his  kite-line  would  reach;  how  he  followed  a 
third  to  the  fullest  stretch  of  the  kite-line,  and  was 
about  to  turn  back  when  he  glimpsed  a  far-off  speck 
that  looked  like  daylight;  dropped  the  line  and 
groped  toward  it,  pushed  his  head  and  shoulders 
through  a  small  hole  and  saw  the  broad  Mississippi 
rolling  by!  And  if  it  had  only  happened  to  be 
night  he  would  not  have  seen  that  speck  of  daylight 
and  would  not  have  explored  that  passage  any 
more!  He  told  how  he  went  back  for  Becky  and 
broke  the  good  news  and  she  told  him  not  to  fret 
her  with  such  stuff,  for  she  was  tired,  and  knew  she 

264 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

was  going  to  die,  and  wanted  to.  He  described 
how  he  labored  with  her  and  convinced  her;  and 
how  she  almost  died  for  joy  when  she  had  groped 
to  where  she  actually  saw  the  blue  speck  of  day 
light;  how  he  pushed  his  way  out  at  the  hole  and 
then  helped  her  out;  how  they  sat  there  and  cried 
for  gladness;  how  some  men  came  along  in  a  skiff 
and  Tom  hailed  them  and  told  them  their  situation 
and  their  famished  condition;  how  the  men  didn't 
believe  the  wild  tale  at  first,  "because,"  said  they, 
"you  are  five  miles  down  the  river  below  the  valley 
the  cave  is  in" — then  took  them  aboard,  rowed  to 
a  house,  gave  them  supper,  made  them  rest  till  two 
or  three  hours  after  dark,  and  then  brought  them 
home. 

Before  day-dawn,  Judge  Thatcher  and  the  handful 
of  searchers  with  him  were  tracked  out,  in  the  cave, 
by  the  twine  clews  they  had  strung  behind  them, 
and  informed  of  the  great  news. 

Three  days  and  nights  of  toil  and  hunger  in  the 
cave  were  not  to  be  shaken  off  at  once,  as  Tom  and 
Becky  soon  discovered.  They  were  bedridden  all 
of  Wednesday  and  Thursday,  and  seemed  to  grow 
more  and  more  tired  and  worn  all  the  time.  Tom 
got  about  a  little  on  Thursday,  was  down -town 
Friday,  and  nearly  as  whole  as  ever  Saturday;  but 
Becky  did  not  leave  her  room  until  Sunday,  and 
then  she  looked  as  if  she  had  passed  through  a 
wasting  illness. 

Tom  learned  of  Huck's  sickness  and  went  to  see 
him  on  Friday,  but  could  not  be  admitted  to  the 
bedroom;  neither  could  he  on  Saturday  or  Sunday. 

265 


MARK    TWAIN 

He  was  admitted  daily  after  that,  but  was  warned 
to  keep  still  about  his  adventure  and  introduce  no 
exciting  topic.  The  Widow  Douglas  stayed  by  to 
see  that  he  obeyed.  At  home  Tom  learned  of  the 
Cardiff  Hill  event;  also  that  the  "ragged  man's" 
body  had  eventually  been  found  in  the  river  near 
the  ferry  landing ;  he  had  been  drowned  while  trying 
to  escape,  perhaps. 

About  a  fortnight  after  Tom's  rescue  from  the 
cave,  he  started  off  to  visit  Huck,  who  had  grown 
plenty  strong  enough,  now,  to  hear  exciting  talk, 
and  Tom  had  some  that  would  interest  him,  he 
thought.  Judge  Thatcher's  house  was  on  Tom's 
way,  and  he  stopped  to  see  Becky.  The  Judge  and 
some  friends  set  Tom  to  talking,  and  some  one 
asked  him  ironically  if  he  wouldn't  like  to  go  to 
the  cave  again.  Tom  said  he  thought  he  wouldn't 
mind  it.  The  Judge  said: 

"Well,  there  are  others  just  like  you,  Tom,  I've 
not  the  least  doubt.  But  we  have  taken  care  of 
that.  Nobody  will  get  lost  in  that  cave  any  more." 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  had  its  big  door  sheathed  with  boiler 
iron  two  weeks  ago,  and  triple-locked — and  I've  got 
the  keys." 

Tom  turned  as  white  as  a  sheet. 

"What's  the  matter,  boy!  Here,  run,  some 
body!  Fetch  a  glass  of  water!" 

The  water  was  brought  and  thrown  into  Tom's  face. 

"Ah,  now  you're  all  right.  What  was  the  matter 
with  you,  Tom?" 

"Oh,  Judge,  Injun  Joe's  in  the  cave!" 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

WITHIN  a  few  minutes  the  news  had  spread, 
and  a  dozen  skiff -loads  of  men  were  on  their 
way  to  McDougal's  cave,  and  the  ferryboat,  well 
filled  with  passengers,  soon  followed.  Tom  Sawyer 
was  in  the  skiff  that  bore  Judge  Thatcher. 

When  the  cave  door  was  unlocked,  a  sorrowful 
sight  presented  itself  in  the  dim  twilight  of  the 
place.  Injun  Joe  lay  stretched  upon  the  ground, 
dead,  with  his  face  close  to  the  crack  of  the  door,  as 
if  his  longing  eyes  had  been  fixed,  to  the  latest  mo 
ment,  upon  the  light  and  the  cheer  of  the  free  world 
outside.  Tom  was  touched,  for  he  knew  by  his  own 
experience  how  this  wretch  had  suffered.  His  pity 
was  moved,  but  nevertheless  he  felt  an  abounding 
sense  of  relief  and  security,  now,  which  revealed  to 
him  in  a  degree  which  he  had  not  fully  appreciated 
before  how  vast  a  weight  of  dread  had  been  lying 
upon  him  since  the  day  he  lifted  his  voice  against 
this  bloody-minded  outcast. 

Injun  Joe's  bowie-knife  lay  close  by,  its  blade 
broken  in  two.  The  great  foundation-beam  of  the 
door  had  been  chipped  and  hacked  through,  with 
tedious  labor;  useless  labor,  too,  it  was,  for  the 
native  rock  formed  a  sill  outside  it,  and  upon  that 
stubborn  material  the  knife  had  wrought  no  effect; 

267 


MARK    TWAIN 

the  only  damage  done  was  to  the  knife  itself.  But  if 
there  had  been  no  stony  obstruction  there  the  labor 
would  have  been  useless  still,  for  if  the  beam  had 
been  wholly  cut  away  Injun  Joe  could  not  have 
squeezed  his  body  under  the  door,  and  he  knew  it. 
So  he  had  only  hacked  that  place  in  order  to  be 
doing  something — in  order  to  pass  the  weary  time 
— in  order  to  employ  his  tortured  faculties.  Ordi 
narily  one  could  find  half  a  dozen  bits  of  candle 
stuck  around  in  the  crevices  of  this  vestibule,  left 
there  by  tourists;  but  there  were  none  now.  The 
prisoner  had  searched  them  out  and  eaten  them. 
He  had  also  contrived  to  catch  a  few  bats,  and 
these,  also,  he  had  eaten,  leaving  only  their  claws. 
The  poor  unfortunate  had  starved  to  death.  In  one 
place  near  at  hand,  a  stalagmite  had  been  slowly 
growing  up  from  the  ground  for  ages,  builded  by 
the  water-drip  from  a  stalactite  overhead.  The  cap 
tive  had  broken  off  the  stalagmite,  and  upon  the 
stump  had  placed  a  stone,  wherein  he  had  scooped 
a  shallow  hollow  to  catch  the  precious  drop  that  fell 
once  in  every  three  minutes  with  the  dreary  regu 
larity  of  a  clock-tick — a  dessert-spoonful  once  in 
four-and-twenty  hours.  That  drop  was  falling 
when  the  Pyramids  were  new;  when  Troy  fell; 
when  the  foundations  of  Rome  were  laid;  when 
Christ  was  crucified;  when  the  Conqueror  created 
the  British  empire;  when  Columbus  sailed;  when 
the  massacre  at  Lexington  was  "news."  It  is  fall 
ing  now;  it  will  still  be  falling  when  all  these  things 
shall  have  sunk  down  the  afternoon  of  history  and 
the  twilight  of  tradition  and  been  swallowed  up  in 

268 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

the  thick  night  of  oblivion.  Has  everything  a  pur 
pose  and  a  mission?  Did  this  drop  fall  patiently 
during  five  thousand  years  to  be  ready  for  this  flit 
ting  human  insect's  need?  and  has  it  another  im 
portant  object  to  accomplish  ten  thousand  years  to 
come?  No  matter.  It  is  many  and  many  a  year 
since  the  hapless  half-breed  scooped  out  the  stone 
to  catch  the  priceless  drops,  but  to  this  day  the 
tourist  stares  longest  at  that  pathetic  stone  and  that 
slow-dropping  water  when  he  comes  to  see  the  won 
ders  of  McDougal's  Cave.  Injun  Joe's  cup  stands 
first  in  the  list  of  the  cavern's  marvels;  even  "Alad 
din's  Palace"  cannot  rival  it. 

Injun  Joe  was  buried  near  the  mouth  of  the  cave; 
and  people  flocked  there  in  boats  and  wagons  from 
the  towns  and  from  all  the  farms  and  hamlets  for 
seven  miles  around;  they  brought  their  children, 
and  all  sorts  of  provisions,  and  confessed  that  they 
had  had  almost  as  satisfactory  a  time  at  the  funeral 
as  they  could  have  had  at  the  hanging. 

This  funeral  stopped  the  further  growth  of  one 
thing — the  petition  to  the  Governor  for  Injun  Joe's 
pardon.  The  petition  had  been  largely  signed; 
many  tearful  and  eloquent  meetings  had  been  held, 
and  a  committee  of  sappy  women  been  appointed  to 
go  in  deep  mourning  and  wail  around  the  Governor, 
and  implore  him  to  be  a  merciful  ass  and  trample 
his  duty  under  foot.  Injun  Joe  was  believed  to 
have  killed  five  citizens  of  the  village,  but  what  of 
that?  If  he  had  been  Satan  himself  there  would 
have  been  plenty  of  weaklings  ready  to  scribble  their 
names  to  a  pardon  petition,  and  drip  a  tear  on  it 

269 


MARK    TWAIN 

from  their  permanently  impaired  and  leaky  water 
works. 

The  morning  after  the  funeral  Tom  took  Huck  to 
a  private  place  to  have  an  important  talk.  Huck 
had  learned  all  about  Tom's  adventure  from  the 
Welshman  and  the  Widow  Douglas,  by  this  time, 
but  Tom  said  he  reckoned  there  was  one  thing  they 
had  not  told  him;  that  thing  was  what  he  wanted 
to  talk  about  now.  Huck's  face  saddened.  He 
said: 

"I  know  what  it  is.  You  got  into  No.  2  and 
never  found  anything  but  whisky.  Nobody  told  me 
it  was  you;  but  I  just  knowed  it  must  'a'  ben  you, 
soon  as  I  heard  'bout  that  whisky  business;  and  I 
knowed  you  hadn't  got  the  money  becuz  you'd  'a* 
got  at  me  some  way  or  other  and  told  me  even  if 
you  was  mum  to  everybody  else.  Tom,  something's 
always  told  me  we'd  never  get  holt  of  that  swag." 

"Why,  Huck,  I  never  told  on  that  tavern-keeper. 
You  know  his  tavern  was  all  right  the  Saturday  I 
went  to  the  picnic.  Don't  you  remember  you  was 
to  watch  there  that  night?" 

"Oh,  yes!  Why,  it  seems  'bout  a  year  ago.  It 
was  that  very  night  that  I  follered  Injun  Joe  to  the 
widder's." 

"You  followed  him?" 

"Yes — but  you  keep  mum.  I  reckon  Injun 
Joe's  left  friends  behind  him,  and  I  don't  want  'em 
souring  on  me  and  doing  me  mean  tricks.  If  it 
hadn't  ben  for  me  he'd  be  down  in  Texas  now,  all 
right." 

Then  Huck  told  his  entire  adventure  in  confidence 

270 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

to  Tom,  who  had  only  heard  of  the  Welshmen's 
part  of  it  before. 

1  'Well,'*  said  Huck,  presently,  coming  back  to 
the  main  question,  "  whoever  nipped  the  whisky  in 
No.  2  nipped  the  money,  too,  I  reckon — anyways 
it's  a  goner  for  us,  Tom." 

"Huck,  that  money  wasn't  ever  in  No.  2!" 

"What!"  Huck  searched  his  comrade's  face 
keenly.  "Tom,  have  you  got  on  the  track  of  that 
money  again?" 

"Huck,  it's  in  the  cave!" 

Huck's  eyes  blazed. 

"Say  it  again,  Tom." 

"The  money's  in  the  cave!" 

"Tom — honest  injun,  now  —  is  it  fun  or  ear 
nest?" 

"Earnest,  Huck — just  as  earnest  as  ever  I  was  in 
my  life.  Will  you  go  in  there  with  me  and  help  get 
it  out?" 

"I  bet  I  will!  I  will  if  it's  where  we  can  blaze 
our  way  to  it  and  not  get  lost." 

"Huck,  we  can  do  that  without  the  least  little 
bit  of  trouble  in  the  world." 

"Good  as  wheat!  What  makes  you  think  the 
money's — "  « 

"Huck,  you  just  wait  till  we  get  in  there.  If  we 
don't  find  it  I'll  agree  to  give  you  my  drum  and 
everything  I've  got  in  the  world.  I  will,  by  jings." 

"All  right — it's  a  whiz.     When  do  you  say?" 

"Right  now,  if  you  say  it.  Are  you  strong 
enough?" 

"Is  it  far  in  the  cave?  I  ben  on  my  pins  a  little, 

271 


MARK     TWAIN 

three  or  four  days,  now,  but  I  can't  walk  more'n  a 
mile,  Tom — least  I  don't  think  I  could." 

"It's  about  five  mile  into  there  the  way  anybody 
but  me  would  go,  Huck,  but  there's  a  mighty  short 
cut  that  they  don't  anybody  but  me  know  about. 
Huck,  I'll  take  you  right  to  it  in  a  skiff.  I'll  float 
the  skiff  down  there,  and  I'll  pull  it  back  again  all 
by  myself.  You  needn't  ever  turn  your  hand  over." 

"Less  start  right  off,  Tom." 

"All  right.  We  want  some  bread  and  meat,  and 
our  pipes,  and  a  little  bag  or  two,  and  two  or  three 
kite-strings,  and  some  of  these  new-fangled  things 
they  call  lucifer  matches.  I  tell  you,  many's  the 
time  I  wished  I  had  some  when  I  was  in  there 
before." 

A  trifle  after  noon  the  boys  borrowed  a  small 
skiff  from  a  citizen  who  was  absent,  and  got  under 
way  at  once.  When  they  were  several  miles  below 
"Cave  Hollow,"  Tom  said: 

"Now  you  see  this  bluff  here  looks  all  alike  all 
the  way  down  from  the  cave  hollow — no  houses,  no 
woodyards,  bushes  all  alike.  But  do  you  see  that 
white  place  up  yonder  where  there's  been  a  land 
slide?  Well,  that's  one  of  my  marks.  We'll  get 
ashore,  now." 

They  landed. 

"Now,  Huck,  where  we're  a-standing  you  could 
touch  that  hole  I  got  out  of  with  a  fishing-pole. 
See  if  you  can  find  it." 

Huck  searched  all  the  place  about,  and  found 
nothing.  Tom  proudly  marched  into  a  thick  clump 
of  sumach  bushes  and  said: 

272 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"Here  you  are!  •  Look  at  it,  Huck;  it's  the  snug 
gest  hole  in  this  country.  You  just  keep  mum 
about  it.  All  along  I've  been  wanting  to  be  a 
robber,  but  I  knew  I'd  got  to  have  a  thing  like  this, 
and  where  to  run  across  it  was  the  bother.  We've 
got  it  now,  and  we'll  keep  it  quiet,  only  we'll  let 
Joe  Harper  and  Ben  Rogers  in — because  of  course 
there's  got  to  be  a  Gang,  or  else  there  wouldn't  be 
any  style  about  it.  Tom  Sawyer's  Gang — it  sounds 
splendid,  don't  it,  Huck?" 

"Well,  it  just  does,  Tom.     And  who'll  we  rob?" 

"Oh,  most  anybody.  Waylay  people  —  that's 
mostly  the  way." 

"And  kill  them?" 

"No,  not  always.  Hive  them  in  the  cave  till 
they  raise  a  ransom." 

"What's  a  ransom?" 

"Money.  You  make  them  raise  all  they  can, 
off'n  their  friends;  and  after  you've  kept  them  a 
year,  if  it  ain't  raised  then  you  kill  them.  That's 
the  general  way.  Only  you  don't  kill  the  women. 
You  shut  up  the  women,  but  you  don't  kill  them. 
They're  always  beautiful  and  rich,  and  awfully 
scared.  You  take  their  watches  and  things,  but 
you  always  take  your  hat  off  and  talk  polite.  They 
ain't  anybody  as  polite  as  robbers — you'll  see  that 
in  any  book.  Well,  the  women  get  to  loving  you, 
and  after  they've  been  in  the  cave  a  week  or  two 
weeks  they  stop  crying  and  after  that  you  couldn't 
get  them  to  leave.  If  you  drove  them  out  they'd 
turn  right  around  and  come  back.  It's  so  in  all 
the  books." 

273 


MARK    TWAIN 

"  Why,  it's  real  bully,  Tom.  I  b'lieve  it's  better'n 
to  be  a  pirate." 

"Yes,  it's  better  in  some  ways,  because  it's  close 
to  home  and  circuses  and  all  that." 

By  this  time  everything  was  ready  and  the  boys 
entered  the  hole,  Tom  in  the  lead.  They  toiled 
their  way  to  the  farther  end  of  the  tunnel,  then  made 
their  spliced  kite-strings  fast  and  moved  on.  A  few 
steps  brought  them  to  the  spring,  and  Tom  felt  a 
shudder  quiver  all  through  him.  He  showed  Huck 
the  fragment  of  candle-wick  perched  on  a  lump  of 
clay  against  the  wall,  and  described  how  he  and 
Becky  had  watched  the  flame  struggle  and  expire. 

The  boys  began  to  quiet  down  to  whispers,  now, 
for  the  stillness  and  gloom  of  the  place  oppressed 
their  spirits.  They  went  on,  and  presently  entered 
and  followed  Tom's  other  corridor  until  they  reached 
the  "jumping-off  place."  The  candles  revealed  the 
fact  that  it  was  not  really  a  precipice,  but  only  a 
steep  clay  hill  twenty  or  thirty  feet  high.  Tom 
whispered : 

"Now  I'll  show  you  something,  Huck." 

He  held  his  candle  aloft  and  said: 

"Look  as  far  around  the  corner  as  you  can.  Do 
you  see  that?  There — on  the  big  rock  over  yonder 
— done  with  candle-smoke." 

"Tom,  it's  a  cross!" 

"Now  where's  your  Number  Two?  'Under  the 
cross,'  hey?  Right  yonder 's  where  I  saw  Injun  Joe 
poke  up  his  candle,  Huck!" 

Huck  stared  at  the  mystic  sign  awhile,  and  then 
said  with  a  shaky  voice: 

274 


ADVENTURES     OF     TOM     SAWYER 

"Tom,  le's  git  out  of  here!" 

"What!   and  leave  the  treasure?" 

"Yes — leave  it.  Injun  Joe's  ghost  is  round 
about  there,  certain." 

"No  it  ain't,  Huck,  no  it  ain't.  It  would  ha'nt 
the  place  where  he  died — away  out  at  the  mouth 
of  the  cave — five  mile  from  here." 

"No,  Tom,  it  wouldn't.  It  would  hang  round 
the  money.  I  know  the  ways  of  ghosts,  and  so  do 
you." 

Tom  began  to  fear  that  Huck  was  right.  Mis 
givings  gathered  in  his  mind.  But  presently  an  idea 
occurred  to  him — 

"Looky  here,  Huck,  what  fools  we're  making  of 
ourselves!  Injun  Joe's  ghost  ain't  a-going  to  come 
around  where  there's  a  cross!" 

The  point  was  well  taken.     It  had  its  effect. 

"Tom,  I  didn't  think  of  that.  But  that's  so. 
It's  luck  for  us,  that  cross  is.  I  reckon  we'll  climb 
down  there  and  have  a  hunt  for  that  box." 

Tom  went  first,  cutting  rude  steps  in  the  clay  hill 
as  he  descended.  Huck  followed.  Four  avenues 
opened  out  of  the  small  cavern  which  the  great  rock 
stood  in.  The  boys  examined  three  of  them  with 
no  result.  They  found  a  small  recess  in  the  one 
nearest  the  base  of  the  rock,  with  a  pallet  of  blan 
kets  spread  down  in  it;  also  an  old  suspender, 
some  bacon  rind,  and  the  well-gnawed  bones  of 
two  or  three  fowls.  But  there  was  no  money-box. 
The  lads  searched  and  re-searched  this  place,  but 
in  vain.  Tom  said: 

"He    said    under    the    cross.     Well,    this    comes 
275 


MARK    TWAIN 

nearest  to  being  tinder  the  cross.     It  can't  be  tinder 
the  rock  itself,  because  that  sets  solid  on  the  ground." 

They  searched  everywhere  once  more,  and  then 
sat  down  discouraged.  Huck  could  suggest  noth 
ing.  By  and  by  Tom  said: 

"Looky  here,  Huck,  there's  footprints  and  some 
candle-grease  on  the  clay  about  one  side  of  this 
rock,  but  not  on  the  other  sides.  Now,  what's  that 
for?  I  bet  you  the  money  is  tinder  the  rock.  I'm 
going  to  dig  in  the  clay." 

"That  ain't  no  bad  notion,  Tom!"  said  Huck 
with  animation. 

Tom's  "real  Barlow"  was  out  at  once,  and  he 
had  not  dug  four  inches  before  he  struck  wood. 

"Hey,  Huck!— you  hear  that?" 

Huck  began  to  dig  and  scratch  now.  Some 
boards  were  soon  uncovered  and  removed.  They 
had  concealed  a  natural  chasm  which  led  under  the 
rock.  Tom  got  into  this  and  held  his  candle  as 
far  tinder  the  rock  as  he  could,  but  said  he  could 
not  see  to  the  end  of  the  rift.  He  proposed  to  ex 
plore.  He  stooped  and  passed  under;  the  narrow 
way  descended  gradually.  He  followed  its  winding 
course,  first  to  the  right,  then  to  the  left,  Huck  at 
his  heels.  Tom  turned  a  short  curve,  by  and  by, 
and  exclaimed: 

"My  goodness,  Huck,  looky  here!" 

It  was  the  treasure-box,  sure  enough,  occupying 
a  snug  little  cavern,  along  with  an  empty  powder- 
keg,  a  couple  of  guns  in  leather  cases,  two  or  three 
pairs  of  old  moccasins,  a  leather  belt,  and  some 
other  rubbish  well  soaked  with  the  water-drip. 

276 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

"Got  it  at  last!"  said  Huck,  plowing  among  the 
tarnished  coins  with  his  hand.  "My,  but  we're 
rich,  Tom!" 

"Huck,  I  always  reckoned  we'd  get  it.  It's  just 
too  good  to  believe,  but  we  have  got  it,  sure!  Say 
— let's  not  fool  around  here.  Let's  snake  it  out. 
Lemme  see  if  I  can  lift  the  box." 

It  weighed  about  fifty  pounds.  Tom  could  lift 
it,  after  an  awkward  fashion,  but  could  not  carry  it 
conveniently. 

"I  thought  so,"  he  said;  "they  carried  it  like  it 
was  heavy,  that  day  at  the  ha'nted  house.  I  noticed 
that.  I  reckon  I  was  right  to  think  of  fetching  the 
little  bags  along." 

The  money  was  soon  in  the  bags  and  the  boys 
took  it  up  to  the  cross  rock. 

"Now  le's  fetch  the  guns  and  things,"  said 
Huck. 

"No,  Huck — leave  them  there.  They're  just  the 
tricks  to  have  when  we  go  to  robbing.  We'll  keep 
them  there  all  the  time,  and  we'll  hold  our  orgies 
there,  too.  It's  an  awful  snug  place  for  orgies." 

"What's  orgies?" 

"7  dono.  But  robbers  always  have  orgies,  and 
of  course  we've  got  to  have  them,  too.  Come 
along,  Huck;  we've  been  in  here  a  long  time.  It's 
getting  late,  I  reckon.  I'm  hungry,  too.  We'll 
eat  and  smoke  when  we  get  to  the  skiff." 

They  presently  emerged  into  the  clump  of  sumach 
bushes,  looked  warily  out,  found  the  coast  clear, 
and  were  soon  lunching  and  smoking  in  the  skiff. 
As  the  sun  dipped  toward  the  horizon  they  pushed 

rg  277 


MARK    TWAIN 

out  and  got  under  way.  Tom  skimmed  up  the 
shore  through  the  long  twilight,  chatting  cheerily 
with  Huck,  and  landed  shortly  after  dark. 

"Now,  Huck,"  said  Tom,  "we'll  hide  the  money 
in  the  loft  of  the  widow's  woodshed,  and  I'll  come 
up  in  the  morning  and  we'll  count  it  and  divide,  and 
then  we'll  hunt  up  a  place  out  in  the  woods  for  it 
where  it  will  be  safe.  Just  you  lay  quiet  here  and 
watch  the  stuff  till  I  run  and  hook  Benny  Taylor's 
little  wagon;  I  won't  be  gone  a  minute." 

He  disappeared,  and  presently  returned  with  the 
wagon,  put  the  two  small  sacks  into  it,  threw  some 
old  rags  on  top  of  them,  and  started  off,  dragging 
his  cargo  behind  him.  When  the  boys  reached  the 
Welshman's  house,  they  stopped  to  rest.  Just  as 
they  were  about  to  move  on,  the  Welshman  stepped 
out  and  said: 

"Hello,  who's  that?" 

"Huck  and  Tom  Sawyer." 

"Good!  Come  along  with  me,  boys;  you  are 
keeping  everybody  waiting.  Here — hurry  up,  trot 
ahead — I'll  haul  the  wagon  for  you.  Why,  it's 
not  as  light  as  it  might  be.  Got  bricks  in  it? — or 
old  metal?" 

"Old  metal,"  said  Tom. 

"I  judged  so;  the  boys  in  this  town  will  take 
more  trouble  and  fool  away  more  time  hunting  up 
six  bits'  worth  of  old  iron  to  sell  to  the  foundry 
than  they  would  to  make  twice  the  money  at  regular 
work.  But  that's  human  nature — hurry  along, 
hurry  along!" 

The  boys  wanted  to  know  what  the  hurry  was  about. 

278 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

"Never  mind;  you'll  see  when  we  get  to  the 
Widow  Douglas's." 

Huck  said  with  some  apprehension — for  he  was 
long  used  to  being  falsely  accused: 

"Mr.  Jones,  we  haven't  been  doing  nothing." 

The  Welshman  laughed. 

"Well,  I  don't  know,  Huck,  my  boy.  I  don't 
know  about  that.  Ain't  you  and  the  widow  good 
friends?" 

"Yes.  Well,  she's  ben  good  friends  to  me,  any 
ways." 

"All  right,  then.  What  do  you  want  to  be  afraid 
for?" 

This  question  was  not  entirely  answered  in  Huck's 
slow  mind  before  he  found  himself  pushed,  along 
with  Tom,  into  Mrs.  Douglas's  drawing-room.  Mr. 
Jones  left  the  wagon  near  the  door  and  followed. 

The  place  was  grandly  lighted,  and  everybody 
that  was  of  any  consequence  in  the  village  was 
there.  The  Thatchers  were  there,  the  Harpers,  the 
Rogerses,  Aunt  Polly,  Sid,  Mary,  the  minister,  the 
editor,  and  a  great  many  more,  and  all  dressed  in 
their  best.  The  widow  received  the  boys  as  heartily 
as  any  one  could  well  receive  two  such  looking 
beings.  They  were  covered  with  clay  and  candle- 
grease.  Aunt  Polly  blushed  crimson  with  humilia 
tion,  and  frowned  and  shook  her  head  at  Tom. 
Nobody  suffered  half  as  much  as  the  two  boys  did, 
however.  Mr.  Jones  said: 

"Tom  wasn't  at  home,  yet,  so  I  gave  him  up; 
but  I  stumbled  on  him  and  Huck  right  at  my  door, 
and  so  I  just  brought  them  along  in  a  hurry." 

279 


MARK    TWAIN 

"And  you  did  just  right,*'  said  the  widow.  "Come 
with  me,  boys." 

She  took  them  to  a  bedchamber  and  said : 

"Now  wash  and  dress  yourselves.  Here  are  two 
new  suits  of  clothes — shirts,  socks,  everything  com 
plete.  They're  Huck's — no,  no  thanks,  Huck — 
Mr.  Jones  bought  one  and  I  the  other.  But  they'll 
fit  both  of  you.  Get  into  them.  We'll  wait — 
come  down  when  you  are  slicked  up  enough." 

Then  she  left. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

HUCK  said:  "Tom,  we  can  slope,  if  we  can  find 
a  rope.  The  window  ain't  high  from  the 
ground." 

"Shucks,  what  do  you  want  to  slope  for?" 

"Well,  I  ain't  used  to  that  kind  of  a  crowd.  I 
can't  stand  it.  I  ain't  going  down  there,  Tom." 

"Oh,  bother!  It  ain't  anything.  I  don't  mind 
it  a  bit.  I'll  take  care  of  you." 

Sid  appeared. 

"Tom,"  said  he,  "auntie  has  been  waiting  for 
you  all  the  afternoon.  Mary  got  your  Sunday 
clothes  ready,  and  everybody's  been  fretting  about 
you.  Say — ain't  this  grease  and  clay,  on  your 
clothes?" 

"Now,  Mr.  Siddy,  you  jist  'tend  to  your  own 
business.  What's  all  this  blow-out  about,  anyway?" 

"It's  one  of  the  widow's  parties  that  she's  always 
having.  This  time  it's  for  the  Welshman  and  his 
sons,  on  account  of  that  scrape  they  helped  her  out 
of  the  other  night.  And  say — I  can  tell  you  some 
thing,  if  you  want  to  know." 

"Well,  what?" 

"Why,  old  Mr.  Jones  is  going  to  try  to  spring 
something  on  the  people  here  to-night,  but  I  over 
heard  him  tell  auntie  to-day  about  it,  as  a  secret, 

281 


MARK    TWAIN 

but  I  reckon  it's  not  much  of  a  secret  now.  Every 
body  knows — the  widow,  too,  for  all  she  tries  to 
let  on  she  don't.  Mr.  Jones  was  bound  Huck  should 
be  here — couldn't  get  along  with  his  grand  secret 
without  Huck,  you  know!" 

"Secret  about  what,  Sid?" 

"About  Huck  tracking  the  robbers  to  the  widow's. 
I  reckon  Mr.  Jones  was  going  to  make  a  grand  time 
over  his  surprise,  but  I  bet  you  it  will  drop  pretty 
flat." 

Sid  chuckled  in  a  very  contented  and  satisfied  way. 

"Sid,  was  it  you  that  told?" 

"Oh,  never  mind  who  it  was.  Somebody  told — 
that's  enough." 

"Sid,  there's  only  one  person  in  this  town  mean 
enough  to  do  that,  and  that's  you.  If  you  had  been 
in  Huck's  place  you'd  'a'  sneaked  down  the  hill  and 
never  told  anybody  on  the  robbers.  You  can't  do 
any  but  mean  things,  and  you  can't  bear  to  see 
anybody  praised  for  doing  good  ones.  \  There — no 
thanks,  as  the  widow  says" — and  Tom  cuffed  Sid's 
ears  and  helped  him  to  the  door  with  several  kicks. 
"Now  go  and  tell  auntie  if  you  dare — and  to 
morrow  you'll  catch  it!" 

Some  minutes  later  the  widow's  guests  were  at  the 
supper-table,  and  a  dozen  children  were  propped  up 
at  little  side-tables  in  the  same  room,  after  the 
fashion  of  that  country  and  that  day.  At  the  proper 
time  Mr.  Jones  made  his  little  speech,  in  which  he 
thanked  the  widow  for  the  honor  she  was  doing 
himself  and  his  sons,  but  said  that  there  was  another 
person  whose  modesty — 

282 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM    SAWYER 

And  so  forth  and  so  on.  He  sprung  his  secret 
about  Huci's  share  in  the  adventure  in  the  finest 
dramatic  manner  he  was  master  of,  but  the  surprise 
it  occasioned  was  largely  counterfeit  and  not  as 
clamorous  and  effusive  as  it  might  have  been  under 
happier  circumstances.  However,  the  widow  made 
a  pretty  fair  show  of  astonishment,  and  heaped  so 
many  compliments  and  so  much  gratitude  upon 
Huck  that  he  almost  forgot  the  nearly  intolerable 
discomfort  of  his  new  clothes  in  the  entirely  intoler 
able  discomfort  of  being  set  up  as  a  target  for  every 
body's  gaze  and  everybody's  laudations. 

The  widow  said  she  meant  to  give  Huck  a  home 
under  her  roof  and  have  him  educated;  and  that 
when  she  could  spare  the  money  she  would  start  him 
in  business  in  a  modest  way.  Tom's  chance  was 
come.  He  said: 

"Huck  don't  need  it.    Huck's  rich." 

Nothing  but  a  heavy  strain  upon  the  good  man 
ners  of  the  company  kept  back  the  due  and  proper 
complimentary  laugh  at  this  pleasant  joke.  But  the 
silence  was  a  little  awkward.  Tom  broke  it : 

"Huck's  got  money.  Maybe  you  don't  believe 
it,  but  he's  got  lots  of  it.  Oh,  you  needn't  smile 
— I  reckon  I  can  show  you.  You  just  wait  a 
minute." 

Tom  ran  out  of  doors.  The  company  looked  at 
each  other  with  a  perplexed  interest — and  inquir 
ingly  at  Huck,  who  was  tongue-tied. 

"Sid,  what  ails  Torn?"  said  Aunt  Polly.  "He 
— well,  there  ain't  ever  any  making  of  that  boy  out. 
I  never — " 

283 


MARK    TWAIN 

Tom  entered,  struggling  with  the  weight  of  his 
sacks,  and  Aunt  Polly  did  not  finish  her  sentence. 
Tom  poured  the  mass  of  yellow  coin  upon  the  table 
and  said: 

" There— what  did  I  tell  you?  Half  of  it's 
Huck's  and  half  of  it's  mine!" 

The  spectacle  took  the  general  breath  away.  All 
gazed,  nobody  spoke  for  a  moment.  Then  there 
was  a  unanimous  call  for  an  explanation.  Tom 
said  he  could  furnish  it,  and  he  did.  The  tale  was 
long,  but  brimful  of  interest.  There  was  scarcely 
an  interruption  from  any  one  to  break  the  charm  of 
its  flow.  When  he  had  finished,  Mr.  Jones  said: 

"I  thought  I  had  fixed  up  a  little  surprise  for 
this  occasion,  but  it  don't  amount  to  anything  now. 
This  one  makes  it  sing  mighty  small,  I'm  willing  to 
allow." 

The  money  was  counted.  The  sum  amounted  to 
a  little  over  twelve  thousand  dollars.  It  was  more 
than  any  one  present  had  ever  seen  at  one  time 
before,  though  several  persons  were  there  who  were 
worth  considerably  more  than  that  in  property. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

THE  reader  may  rest  satisfied  that  Tom's  and 
Hack's  windfall  made  a  mighty  stir  in  the 
poor  little  village  of  St.  Petersburg.  So  vast  a  sum, 
all  in  actual  cash,  seemed  next  to  incredible.  It  was 
talked  about,  gloated  over,  glorified,  until  the  reason 
of  many  of  the  citizens  tottered  under  the  strain  of 
the  unhealthy  excitement.  Every  "haunted"  house 
in  St.  Petersburg  and  the  neighboring  villages  was 
dissected,  plank  by  plank,  and  its  foundations  dug 
up  and  ransacked  for  hidden  treasure — and  not  by 
boys,  but  men — pretty  grave,  unromantic  men,  too, 
some  of  them.  Wherever  Tom  and  Huck  appeared 
they  were  courted,  admired,  stared  at.  The  boys 
were  not  able  to  remember  that  their  remarks  had 
possessed  weight  before ;  but  now  their  sayings  were 
treasured  and  repeated;  everything  they  did  seemed 
somehow  to  be  regarded  as  remarkable;  they  had 
evidently  lost  the  power  of  doing  and  saying  com 
monplace  things;  moreover,  their  past  history  was 
raked  up  and  discovered  to  bear  marks  of  conspicu 
ous  originality.  The  village  paper  published  bio 
graphical  sketches  of  the  boys. 

The  Widow  Douglas  put  Huck's  money  out  at  six 
per  cent.,  and  Judge  Thatcher  did  the  same  with 
Tom's  at  Aunt  Polly's  request.  Each  lad  had  an 

285 


MARK    TWAIN 

income,  now,  that  was  simply  prodigious — a  dollar 
for  every  week-day  in  the  year  and  half  of  the 
Sundays.  It  was  just  what  the  minister  got — no, 
it  was  what  he  was  promised — he  generally  couldn't 
collect  it.  A  dollar  and  a  quarter  a  week  would 
board,  lodge,  and  school  a  boy  in  those  old  simple 
days — and  clothe  him  and  wash  him,  too,  for  that 
matter. 

Judge  Thatcher  had  conceived  a  great  opinion  of 
Tom.  He  said  that  no  commonplace  boy  would 
ever  have  got  his  daughter  out  of  the  cave.  When 
Becky  told  her  father,  in  strict  confidence,  how  Tom 
had  taken  her  whipping  at  school,  the  Judge  was 
visibly  moved;  and  when  she  pleaded  grace  for  the 
mighty  lie  which  Tom  had  told  in  order  to  shift  that 
whipping  from  her  shoulders  to  his  own,  the  Judge 
said  with  a  fine  outburst  that  it  was  a  noble,  a 
generous,  a  magnanimous  lie — a  lie  that  was  worthy 
to  hold  up  its  head  and  march  down  through  history 
breast  to  breast  with  George  Washington's  lauded 
Truth  about  the  hatchet !  Becky  thought  her  father 
had  never  looked  so  tall  and  so  superb  as  when  he 
walked  the  floor  and  stamped  his  foot  and  said  that. 
She  went  straight- off  and  told  Tom  about  it. 

Judge  Thatcher  hoped  to  see  Tom  a  great  lawyer 
or  a  great  soldier  seme  day.  He  said  he  meant  to 
look  to  it  that  Tom  should  be  admitted  to  the 
National  Military  Academy  and  afterward  trained 
in  the  best  law  school  in  the  country,  in  order  that 
he  might  be  ready  for  either  career  or  both. 

Huck  Finn's  wealth  and  the  fact  that  he  was  now 
under  the  Widow  Douglas's  protection  introduced 


ADVENTURES    OF    TOM     SAWYER 

him  into  society — no,  dragged  him  into  it,  hurled 
him  into  it — and  his  sufferings  were  almost  more 
than  he  could  bear.  The  widow's  servants  kept 
him  clean  and  neat,  combed  and  brushed,  and  they 
bedded  him  nightly  in  unsympathetic  sheets  that 
had  not  one  little  spot  or  stain  which  he  could  press 
to  his  heart  and  know  for  a  friend.  He  had  to  eat 
with  knife  and  fork;  he  had  to  use  napkin,  cup,  and 
plate;  he  had  to  learn  his  book,  he  had  to  go  to 
church;  he  had  to  talk  so  properly  that  speech  was 
become  insipid  in  his  mouth;  whithersoever  he 
turned,  the  bars  and  shackles  of  civilization  shut 
him  in  and  bound  him  hand  and  foot. 

He  bravely  bore  his  miseries  three  weeks,  and 
then  one  day  turned  up  missing.  For  forty-eight 
hours  the  widow  hunted  for  him  everywhere  in 
great  distress.  The  public  were  profoundly  con 
cerned;  they  searched  high  and  low,  they  dragged 
the  river  for  his  body.  Early  the  third  morning 
Tom  Sawyer  wisely  went  poking  among  some  old 
empty  hogsheads  down  behind  the  abandoned 
slaughter-house,  and  in  one  of  them  he  found  the 
refugee.  Huck  had  slept  there;  he  had  just  break 
fasted  upon  some  stolen  odds  and  ends  of  food,  and 
was  lying  off,  now,  in  comfort,  with  his  pipe.  He  was 
unkempt,  uncombed,  and  clad  in  the  same  old  ruin 
of  rags  that  had  made  him  picturesque  in  the  days 
when  he  was  free  and  happy,  Tom  routed  him  out, 
told  him  the  trouble  he  had  been  causing,  and  urged 
him  to  go  home.  Huck's  face  lost  its  tranquil  con 
tent,  and  took  a  melancholy  cast.  He  said: 

"Don't  talk  about  it,  Tom.  I've  tried  it,  and  it 

287 


MARK    TWAIN 

don't  work;  it  don't  work,  Tom.  It  ain't  for  me; 
I  ain't  used  to  it.  The  widder's  good  to  me,  and 
friendly;  but  I  can't  stand  them  ways.  She  makes 
me  git  up  just  at  the  same  time  every  morning;  she 
makes  me  wash,  they  comb  me  all  to  thunder;  she 
won't  let  me  sleep  in  the  woodshed;  I  got  to  wear 
them  blamed  clothes  that  just  smothers  me,  Tom; 
they  don't  seem  to  let  any  air  git  through  'em,  some 
how;  and  they're  so  rotten  nice  that  I  can't  set 
down,  nor  lay  down,  nor  roll  around  anywher's;  I 
hain't  slid  on  a  cellar-door  for — well,  it  'pears  to 
be  years ;  I  got  to  go  to  church  and  sweat  and  sweat 
— I  hate  them  ornery  sermons!  I  can't  ketch  a 
fly  in  there,  I  can't  chaw.  I  got  to  wear  shoes  all 
Sunday.  The  widder  eats  by  a  bell;  she  goes  to 
bed  by  a  bell;  she  gits  up  by  a.  bell — everything's 
so  awful  reg'lar  a  body  can't  stand  it." 
"Well,  everybody  does  that  way,  Huck." 
"Tom,  it  don't  make  no  difference.  I  ain't 
everybody,  and  I  can't  stand  it.  It's  awful  to  be 
tied  up  so.  And  grub  comes  too  easy — I  don't 
take  no  interest  in  vittles,  that  way.  I  got  to  ask 
to  go  a-fishing;  I  got  to  ask  to  go  in  a-swimming — 
dern'd  if  I  hain't  got  to  ask  to  do  everything. 
Well,  I'd  got  to  talk  so  nice  it  wasn't  no  comfort — 
I'd  got  to  go  up  in  the  attic  and  rip  out  awhile, 
every  day,  to  git  a  taste  in  my  mouth,  or  I'd  'a' 
died,  Tom.  The  widder  wouldn't  let  me  smoke; 
she  wouldn't  let  me  yell,  she  wouldn't  let  me  gape, 
nor  stretch,  nor  scratch,  before  folks — "  [Then  with 
a  spasm  of  special  irritation  and  injury] — "And  dad 
fetch  it,  she  prayed  all  the  time!  I  never  see  such 

288 


ADVENTURES    OP    TOM    SAWYER 

a  woman!  I  had  to  shove,  Tom — I  just  had  to. 
And  besides,  that  school's  going  to  open,  and  I'd 
'a'  had  to  go  to  it — well,  I  wouldn't  stand  that,  Tom. 
Looky  here,  Tom,  being  rich  ain't  what  it's  cracked 
up  to  be.  It's  just  worry  and  worry,  and  sweat  and 
sweat,  and  a- wishing  you  was  dead  all  the  time. 
Now  these  clothes  suits  me,  and  this  bar'l  suits  me, 
and  I  ain't  ever  going  to  shake  'em  any  more. 
Tom,  I  wouldn't  ever  got  into  all  this  trouble  if  it 
hadn't  'a'  been  for  that  money;  now  you  just  take 
my  sheer  of  it  along  with  your'n,  and  gimme  a  ten- 
center  sometimes — not  many  times,  becuz  I  don't 
give  a  dern  for  a  thing  'thout  it's  tollable  hard  to 
git  —  and  you  go  and  beg  off  for  me  with  the 
widder." 

"Oh,  Huck,  you  know  I  can't  do  that.  'Tain't 
fair ;  and,  besides,  if  you'll  try  this  thing  just  awhile 
longer  you'll  come  to  like  it." 

"Like  it!  Yes — the  way  I'd  like  a  hot  stove  if 
I  was  to  set  on  it  long  enough.  No,  Tom,  I  won't 
be  rich,  and  I  won't  live  in  them  cussed  smothery 
houses.  I  like  the  woods,  and  the  river,  and  hogs 
heads,  and  I'll  stick  to  'em,  too.  Blame  it  all!  just 
as  we'd  got  guns,  and  a  cave,  and  all  just  fixed  to 
rob,  here  this  dern  foolishness  has  got  to  come  up 
and  spile  it  all!" 

Tom  saw  his  opportunity — 

"Looky  here,  Huck,  being  rich  ain't  going  to  keep 
me  back  from  turning  robber." 

"No!  Oh,  good-licks,  are  you  in  real  deadwood 
earnest,  Tom?" 

"Just  as  dead  earnest  as  I'm  a-sitting  here.  But, 
289 


MARK    TWAIN 

Huck,  we  can't  let  you  into  the  gang  if  yc 
respectable,  you  know." 

Huck's  joy  was  quenched. 

"Can't  let  me  in,  Tom?  Didn't  you  let  rn^  go 
for  a  pirate?" 

"Yes,  but  that's  different.  A  robber  is  more 
high-toned  than  what  a  pirate  is — as  a  general 
thing.  In  most  countries  they're  awful  high  up  in 
the  nobility — dukes  and  such." 

"Now,  Tom,  hain't  you  always  ben  friendly  to 
me?  You  wouldn't  shet  me  out,  would  you,  Tom? 
You  wouldn't  do  that,  now,  would  you,  Tom?" 

"Huck,  I  wouldn't  want  to,  and  I  don't  want 
to — but  what  would  people  say?  Why,  they'd 
say,  'Mph!  Tom  Sawyer's  Gang!  pretty  low  char 
acters  in  it!'  They'd  mean  you,  Huck.  You 
wouldn't  like  that,  and  I  wouldn't." 

Huck  was  silent  for  some  time,  engaged  in  a 
mental  struggle.  Finally  he  said: 

"Well,  I'll  go  back  to  the  widder  for  a  month 
and  tackle  it  and  see  if  I  can  come  to  stand  it,  if 
you'll  let  me  b'long  to  the  gang,  Tom." 

"All  right,  Huck,  it's  a  whiz!  Come  along,  old 
chap,  and  I'll  ask  the  widow  to  let  up  on  you  a 
little,  Huck." 

"Will  you,  Tom — now  will  you?  That's  good. 
If  she'll  let  up  on  some  of  the  roughest  things,  I'll 
smoke  private  and  cuss  private,  and  crowd  through 
or  bust.  When  you  going  to  start  the  gang  and 
turn  robbers?" 

"Oh,  right  off.  We'll  get  the  boys  together  and 
have  the  initiation  to-night,  maybe." 

290 


ADVENTURE       OF 

"Have  the  which?" 

"Have  the  initiation. n 

"What's  that?" 

"It's  to  swear  to  stand  by  one  'another,  and  ne 
tell  the  gang's  secrets,  even  if  > 
flinders,  and  kill  anybody  and  all  his 
hurts  one  of  the  gang." 

"That's   gay — that's   mighty   gay,    ~" 
you." 

"Well,  I  bet  it  is.     And  all  that  swe^ 
to  be  done  at  midnight,  in  the  lonesomest,  aw 
place  you  can  find — a  ha'nted  house  is  the 
but  they're  all  ripped  up  now." 

"Well,  midnight's  good,  anyway,  Tom." 

"Yes,  so  it  is.  And  you've  got  to  swear  on  a 
coffin,  and  sign  it  with  blood." 

"Now,  that's  something  like!  Why,  it's  a  million 
times  bullier  than  pirating.  I'll  stick  to  the  widder 
till  I  rot,  Tom;  and  if  I  git  to  be  a  reg'lar  ripper 
of  a  robber,  and  everybody  talking  'bout  it,  I 
reckon  she'll  be  proud  she  snaked  me  in  out  of 
the  wet." 


CONCLUSION 

Si   this   chronicle.     It   being   strictly   a 
of  a  boy,  it  must  stop  here;  the  story 
lot,  go  much  further  without  becoming  th. 
tory  of  a  man.    When  one  writes  a  novel  about 
.  people,  he  knows  exactly  where  to  stop — 
hat  is,  with  a  marriage;  but  when  he  writes  of 
/eniles,  he  must  stop  where  he  best  can. 
Most  of  the  characters  that  perform  in  this  book 
still  live,   and  are  prosperous  and ,  happy.     Some 
day  it  may  seem  worth  while  to  take  up  the  story 
of  the  younger  ones  again  and  see  what  sort  of  men 
and  women  they  turned  out  to  be;  therefore  it  will 
be  wisest  not  to  reveal  any  of  that  part  of  their  lives 
at  present. 


END 


IKELEY 


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